New Arrivals V2
by Follower38
Summary: When some stranger IS discovered on the Normandy SR2, the most advanced warship of the time, they can't expect to be given the 5-star treatment. They can expect to be thrown into a cell until someone figures out what's going on. A Mass Effect Original character story with a hard dosage of realism. Follow our friend as he makes his way through the 'verse and tries to stay alive.
1. Prologue: Hangovers and Jail Cells

New Arrivals

"You have been called upon to serve. You will be trained…You will become the Protectors of the Earth and all her Colonies."

-Doctor Catherine Elizabeth Halsey: addressing the Spartan-II candidates at their arrival.

Prologue: "A Fifth of tequila and an ass-kicking"

"Shit…" What the hell happened last night? Oh right. Rush night at Alpha Tau Omega. Hell that was awesome. Where is-

"Where the hell, am I?"I'm feeling metal. Last I remember, the Frat house was made of brick and wood. Not metal. "What the hell is this?" I touch the walls, to make sure it's real and not a dream.

It's cold to the touch, and solid, definitely not a dream, my dreams have never been this vivid. Seriously? I understand they would prank someone, but going this far? The room looks like it's supposed to be a cell or something. My stuff's gone too. My bag, phone, almost everything but my clothes, wait did they take my? I kneel and check my boot. Yeah it's still there, thankfully. Least the guys weren't very through. But this is weird. Even for a prank like this, this is really elaborate, and why would they take my stuff.

"Right, ok you guys jokes over, hah hah. Very funny." There's a camera in the room and I'm looking right at the lens. "Now let me out of here. I got something of a hangover and do not need to be late to Advanced Calculus. Prof's going to tear me a new one if I'm late again." The guys have really outdone themselves this time. Where did they find a room like this on campus?

"I am sorry. But until you have been deemed a non-hostile, Ms. Lawson has declared for you to be kept under guard." The voice is coming from a mike near the camera, feminine, neutral. Either she's a machine, has some emotional issues, or has some really good self-control, probably the third.

Ok, this isn't funny. 'Under guard'? What am I: a prisoner? And who's this 'Lawson'? I swear if it's Ray's girlfriend or something, he is so going to be my punching ba-err sparring partner, for the next month and a half. "Oi Ray! If this is your idea, I am so going to beat down on you!" I slam my foot in a front slam kick against the wall, "Let me out Now!" Again I kick the walls, actually causing a slight echo.

"Please cease your actions. Or I will be forced to invoke action." I ignore it and slam another kick into the wall. "Activating counter-measures." Another kick should get the message-"AGH!" Damn it! What the hell? The wall shocked me! Where did they-

Oh no. This is definitely not the guys. All of us agreed to never try anything that involved electrifying something in our pranks. Not after the incident with the electric fence. Dave was never the same after what happened to his dog. Wasn't like the stuff in the movies where it was just a charred corpse but. I repress a shudder at the memory. Not something anyone ever wants to remember. That begs the question: who put me in here? I look back at the wall where the dirt from my boot is planted on it. Looks harmless but better not give them a reason to do anything else. Better play their game for now.

"Alright, I'll calm down. Is there anyone I can speak to about my release? Or least get some food. I am a US citizen and realize what my rights are. You do not have any right to detain me against my will but I am willing to play your game. "

"Aside from being grateful for your cooperation," This one's different. Another woman, but kinder, softer, "I'll send someone down with some food and then we'll talk." There's also the power and strength behind her words. The way she spoke, sounded like one who was in charge. A person who possessed the power and ability to back up her words, "And another thing: you're not on Earth anymore."

What?

*20 Minutes later*

Just how much longer am I going to have to-The walls to my left split open, so, that's where the doors were. The walls did look strange on that side. A woman came in carrying a tray filled with some sorts of food. None of it familiar. "Hello. Hope you're doing Ok. Gardener wasn't sure what to make so he just gave me some leftovers for you." A red-head, she was scarily nice. I mean, who can be so peppy like she is. Almost makes me sorry I have to do this. "Hey, you ok?" She's looking down on me, considering I was sitting against the wall. Looking behind her, the door is still open. Well that makes this much easier.

"Sorry about this." I mutter.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She asked.

"I said I'm sorry about this."  
Giving me a puzzled look she asked, "Sorry about what?"

"This." I charge forward, slamming my arm into her, knocking the red head aside and run for the door. They close only just after I get out of the room. A room I realize was in a massive bay area. Just where in the world am I? Whatever, I just need to get out of here.

I hear a whirring noise to my left. Another set of doors open and a group of three walk out of it, chatting with each other and not noticing me. It's an elevator. Again I run for the elevator. But the three don't notice me and I can't risk them trying to stop me if they do. Here's to hoping this works . "Make a hole!" The yell does exactly as I hope, of the three, two of them split apart on reflex, giving me a straight run into the elevator. Except for one.

"Stop him!" Damn it! The red-head must have gotten out of the room because the guy takes a stance. Legs splayed and arms reaching out: ready to grapple with me. He yells out some in some form of Russian. I don't have time for this!

I slam right into him, avoiding his hands, sliding my right leg between his and bringing my arms close in. I slam my left hand into his right arm, jarring him slightly, and preventing him from getting any sort of hold on me. And throw my right hand into face, pressing as hard as I can and sweep my leg under his slightly. Ideally, it would have knocked him backwards with his skull slamming onto the ground. In reality, I only throw him off balance and he lands on the floor on his back but not with so much force.

With the guy on the floor and the others parted before me, gives me a straight shot to the elevator. I make it inside the elevator before turning to hit-What? Ok, when the someone develop holo-pads? Or is this some fancy light trick? "Стоп!" What?

Looking up, I see the guy I knocked down getting back up and moving towards me. Crap! Whatever, I'll figure this out later! I slam my hand on the pad and my hand actually meets resistance as the elevator registers it and the doors close well before the guy gets within reach.

Leaning against the wall as the elevator moves I can't release a sigh of relief. "What the hell is going on here? I know this is not some sort of prank. Not to mention the guy took a practiced stance when he tried to intercept me. Military training, I recognize that much thanks to a few friends, but he was wearing no uniform or anything of the sort. I-The elevator doors open to a corridor. Thankfully it's empty. So when I exit the elevator, no one's yelling "Who are you?" or anything of the sort. The corridor splits in two directions leaving only question: right or left?

"So you heard of the Commander's new pet?"

Shit! Well that makes the choice easier: right side it is! Leaving the elevator, I hear the tail end of whatever was being discussed. "-couldn't make go near that with a Claymore." Before hearing the elevator's doors close. Oh, that was close. Until I can figure out what's going on, I can't trust anyone.

I start moving again and hear more voices. "それで、あなたは囚人を見たか?" A woman, Japanese, if I'm right about the language.

"Yeah, I did. Never seen clothes like what he was wearing. Except maybe in old history books, even what was in his pack was a piece of history." A guy, some sort of accent but can't tell where. "Where did he come from anyway?" And what does he mean a piece of history? Just what is going on here?

"No idea." Another woman, this one I recognize, she was the one from before. "Just found him outside my door, smelled like he was sleeping off a hangover."

"No records exist on him either. DNA, facial scans, even fingerprints or a birth certificate." Another woman, Australian or UK accent, could never tell. "Still think we should have handed him over to Cerberus." What? Hand me over to some giant three-headed dog? Ok, apparently someone needs a reality check.

Something slams down and creates a loud bang. "And I said No, Ms. Lawson! I do not bow down to your boss. When all you yourself said he gave no real reason, I am hesitant to follow."

"It is your decision commander. Though I still believe he should have been sent to one of our other cells. But I will agree the fact the Illusive Man refused to give me a reason also makes me hesitant. Still, for someone to have no records on such a scale, just who is he?"

A series of chirps and clicks follow before I hear chairs scrapping. I try to move backwards but trip, falling flat on my ass and.

Find myself facing the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.

A/N: Right guys, as you can tell this is a rewrite, with a greater dosage of realism added into the story. Now please remember this is not a Self-Insert story, but rather an OC. For the sheer fact that an OC, is much easier to write. Also, just a heads up, our OC has no knowledge of the Mass Effect series. You guys decide for yourselves why that is. Also, for those who gave me OCs, sorry, it will take longer but more than likely they will be put into the story eventually.


	2. Encountering Goddesses and Aliens

New Arrivals

A/N: Please read until the end and review. If you read feel I need to add more realism and make edits. Please tell me what you suggest. This is a beta chapter.

"Our boss doesn't care who or what you are. The only thing he cares about is why you're here and what you can do. Anything else is your problem."

-Unknown Mercenary. Discussing with potential recruits in regards to joining The Sons of Mandalore.

Ch. 2: Goddess, Information and Conscription

Standing before me was a goddess who came to earth. Hair as a dark as the void of space, a face and body worthy of Aphrodite herself; words failed me. The perfect woman given form, radiating both beauty, and power. How does someone as beautiful as her not be admired? Wait, is she glowing bl-"Ugh!" My body! I…Can't…move! How the hell is this possible? Can still look around but my body feels like its frozen.

"Can someone tell me how the hell he came up here!" It's the goddess that was yelling. "Shepard, I told you we should have put someone on guard!" She added turning her head slightly. Towards a group behind her: another woman, a redhead, with eyes as green as emeralds, a beauty only beaten by the woman before me. "Just how the hell did he get out anyway?" There are others behind her also. A Japanese woman, if what features I could see under her hood was any sign. A Black man, nothing special except how he carried himself; ex-military, and recent too.

"Relax Miranda." The red head placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't think he's dangerous."

"But commander," Miranda, the woman, who was still glowing blue, turned toward her, but whatever was holding me in place scarcely faltered, "are you sure about this? As I said before we don't know who is."

"それでは、なぜ、我々は彼に聞かないのですか?" I could see the smile she had on her face. Maybe she thought I understood her? Not likely as I don't share her heritage despite my appearance.

The red-head, Shepard I assume, smiled too. "Maybe we should." She sent a pointed glance towards me. "Though I think maybe it would be easier if you release the stasis on him maybe?" Sending a small grin towards Miranda, who nodded before the blue glow went away and I could move again. "So." Shepard offered her hand and I took it, using it as a lever to pull myself up. "Who are you?"

"Look. I'm as clueless as you people are. I don't know where here is, but I'm not talking until I get a lawyer, or I get some information myself." I fold my arms across my chest. "I mean, last night I was at-" I spot something out of the corner of my eye, it's a-What the hell is that thing! "Watch out!" I force my way behind Shepard and after the reptile behind her. I don't know what this thing is, but it's sure as hell not human! I try to do what I did to the guy from before slamming my hand into the thing's face, except this time it's a fist and not an open palm. The thing is taller than me so I don't try to sweep the legs, just plant my right foot behinds it's left as I try to punch the thing's face. Try being the operative word. I manage to get in close but the thing side steps me before I can land the punch and grabs my extended arm and try to pin it to my back. No way in hell is that happening! I pull the counter rotation and slam an open palm into one of its elbow. Slackening its grip just enough for me to forcibly pull out and back. Screw this! I'm taking this thing down!

I plant my feet, right foot behind, my left in front. The thing takes a similar stance. I leap a step forward before bringing my right foot into the air as I spin, aiming my heel into its face-

"Enough!"

"Ahh!" Something slams into me and sends me flying. I'm not the only one, the alien was also. I get back up and charge forward again and, what the hell! Shepard intercepted me, and on instinct I send a roundhouse kick her way but she blocks it and.

I can't describe it. Fighting against someone who is not trained, it is easier to describe how the fight goes. Even among the trained, they can be told and written. But when two masters fight together, it is not something that cannot be described. Words fail to convey what truly occurs in such a moment. It is a move to move. Counter to counter, evasion to strikes. It evolves as it progresses. Becoming less and less of a fight and more into a dance, and it is beautiful. An experience like no other, it would like to describe color to a blind man.

And it is true what they say, when two master's clash, they can read the other's history in their moves. What makes them who they are. Her strikes are hard and powerful: a person of strength and power, able to face any challenge and overcome. They are also brutal, damaging: there has been great turmoil in her life. A great tragedy-no, multiple tragedies, many wounds have been carved upon her soul. But they can be more so, she avoids dealing a significant injury: a sign of control. But that she fights is a display of compassion, of moral integrity, but an understanding that sometimes they must be sacrificed for the greater good. But there is something else, I can't tell what but there is something. But when it ends with a grapple I can see it in her eyes: fear.

No, not of me, but of something greater: something far more terrifying and more powerful. But it is what drives her. Something that gives her purpose. What can-"Whoa!" I feel myself fly through the air as she flips me over and slams me onto the ground. Shit! I try to roll to get back up before I can I feel myself freeze again.

"Well Commander." It's Miranda's voice. "I-"

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'I told you so,' I'll put you in the brig with him." Giving her a hard stare before turning to the alien that I tried to take down, "You going to be ok Garrus?" Garrus? What kind of name is Garrus. Though by how the thing clicked in response I'm going to assume his. "I think he did more than 'surprise' you." Shepard replied with a smirk on her face.

I can't help but shudder when she looks at me again and says, "Now then, how about we try this again?"

**Some time later**

So right now I've been thrown back into the cell I was in earlier. The walls and floor are slightly stained by food. This time though I've been handcuffed and the walls are covered in a blue sheen. Tried to hit it earlier got bounced back. Just where am I? This is sci-fi tech here.

There's a tray in front of me. Dropped me some food after they dropped me in here, I've wiped it clean. Recognized most of it, some of it I didn't. I doubt they would go to the trouble to cuffing me just to poison me. Been doing some stretches to keep boredom away.

What I can't help but wonder is, how did they understand each other? Japanese, English, Russian, the alien's language, even heard another form of Cyrillic language by one of the people who put me in here. Maybe through some sort of implant? But the technology's not that ahead. But then again, I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore.

The doors hiss open again, and three women walked in. Both Miranda and the woman named Shepard. Along with the red-head who brought me food the first time. Miranda is cool and collected, but I can feel the distrust she has towards me. The red-head seems a little wary of me know. She's less peppy than before. There's bruising on her face and arm. Shit, that must have been my fault. Didn't think I hit that hard. But Shepard, she's practically fuming. Wait, why is she looking at me like that?

"So, before you said you were willing to play our game." Shepard approached me and-"Urk!" pulls me upwards Hard by the handcuffs. "So, let's play 20 questions. I'll ask, and you answer. Understood?" Shit, maybe I can-No. I know when I'm beat.

"Alright then," I look straight into her eyes, "shoot."

A/N: Alright guys, this is an experimental chapter, in that, this may be taken down and replaced but please review and let me know what you think. Especially in regards to how effective I've been in adding realism. Also, for those of you who are going to say something about my OC holding his own, even as short as it was against Shepard in hand-to-hand, please hold your comments until the next chapter. Will be explaining there more, also, yeah I realize about that last line.


	3. Interrogations, Answers, and Purpose

New Arrivals V2

A/N: As you read if some facts may seem unrealistic. Please read the whole thing then the author's note at the bottom before ranting please. Also, read and review please!

Chapter 3

"So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

-Gandalf the Grey, comforting Frodo in Moria about his duty and the One Ring.

Interrogations, Answers, and Purpose

"Alright then," I look straight into her eyes, "shoot."

I let myself fall back down as Shepard lets go of my cuffs, while keeping eye contact with her. Figuring, I might as well not give another reason for her to distrust me.

"Good, so first question: who are you?"

Strange, I thought they would know already. Since they had all my stuff, my wallet and id included, that should be easy for them to figure out. Like I said before, I'll play their game for now... I grin, never said I was going to be fair about it though.

"Lee, Christoph. DOB: Oct. 29 1992." Well she said this was 20 questions, smirking I ask, "So it's my turn now I assume?"

She nods. "I'll be fair. But lie to me, and I'll make you pay for it."

"Understood, now where am I?"

"The Terminus systems. Now, how the hell did you get on my ship?"

Terminus systems, what the hell is that? This is seriously not making any sense right now.

"Alright then, in all honesty; I have no idea." When she and Miranda gave that look to each other, I added, "Look, last thing I remember is crashing on some couch after a Rush Night party on campus. When I woke up, I was here, in this cell." I gestured to the walls of said cell. "Now, what did you mean "you're not on Earth"? Last I recall, Humanity wasn't exactly a space-faring race. We barely got anything on the moon since the 1960s!"

With that, all three of them shared looks, a silent conversation going on between them by looks and gestures. I saw them, a twitch here, a look there, but I couldn't read any of it

Then the godd-I mean Miranda, turned toward me. "Tell me, what is the current year?"

What kind of question is that? "Seriously? It's 2020. You guys know that, as well as I do.", Though I'm worried at the looks they gave me. "What?"

"Mr. Lee, the current year is 2185. Roughly 175 years of difference." She turned back toward Shepard, "I told you, there was a chance he was mentally unstable. Perhaps we should-"

"BULLSHIT!", I jump up and slammed my foot in the floor. Hard. "What the hell are you smoking?", I yelled,"No fucking way it's the 22nd century. It's the 21st! I-Ugh!"

Again I get thrown into the wall, this time I saw what it was: a small blue ball was thrown at me by Shepard, and she's glowing blue too! What are these two women?!

"Calm down!"

Fuck that! I want answers, I-shit. Both Miranda and Shepard are glowing blue now. Both of them have a small blue sphere in their hands. I relax my body, and their glow dissipates.

"Good, now that we got that out of the way, I'm going to ignore the fact that you seem to think this is 2029 for now. Instead, what I want to know is, where did you learn to fight?" I raise an eyebrow in response. "I recognized more than a few of your moves, Taekwondo, Jujitsu, Wushu, and Judo, to name a few. Not to mention some of your grapples are military techniques, not martial arts. So I say again, where did you learn to fight? What unit were you with?"

Just what the hell is going on here? Who is this woman? I mean, she can fight, and can recognize some of my skills, she had to have experienced them herself at one point. Far as I'm concerned, that is the only way to learn.

"Never was with any unit. Never joined any of the armed services of any nation." Before she can interrupt I continue, "Been doing martial arts since I was 7 years old, least, that's the earliest I remember. Nearly attained 3rd degree black belt in Taekwondo. I also dabbled in other disciplines over the years, along with training with friends and family, learning more than a few tricks here and there. Not to mention the majority of my friends and extended family are, or were, military. Been training with them for as long as I could remember. If you want actual time overall, I say at least a decade, maybe 15.

The three don't respond. Of them, the red head seems a little shaken. She's trembling slightly. Why? She's fine; she should realize I could have hurt her worse if I wanted… Oh. She's scared of that. That wasn't my intention. I give her a small smile to try and give some comfort, trying to show that I was sorry. She seemed to relax a little, the tension almost visibly leaving her. But, both Shepard and Miranda are looking at me differently now. Both of them are evaluating me; Shepard is seeing me as a potential ally I assume? While Miranda is seeing my potential for a different purpose, I shudder; how can someone so beautiful, be so cold?

"You're lying. No one goes through that kind of training for fun." Miranda said her glare boring into me. "No one puts a kid through that type of training, not unless they were making child soldiers. There's no reason for it otherwise."

"I'm inclined to agree with her." Shepard said. She stepped toward me, "So," She grabbed a part of my wrist not covered by the cuffs, and I can feel the pressure she's putting down on it. "Why don't you tell me where you really learned these skills? Are you a deserter, or maybe the son of one?"

"I don't think he's lying commander." The three of us turn toward the red head. It's the first time she's spoken since coming in here again.

Shepard let go of me and stepped towards her. "Kelly?"

"If he's ethnicity is any sign, many parents of East Asian heritage do often train their children at an early age in martial arts." She looks toward me. "It's to build their strength, and create discipline right?"

I nod. "Why did you think I was lying?", I was genuinely curious. Even if it was unexpected, I don't think I'm that skilled. Yes I picked up a few military techniques from friends and family who were military, but that was mostly from sparring and being their practice dummy. Most of what I learned was taught in martial arts class. "I'm nothing special."

"Lee, some of what you pulled off, I learned in N7 special Operations training." Wait what?

Miranda steps towards Shepard and turns her to face each other. "Commander I-" I tune out whatever she's saying. What? Special operations? N7? Am I seriously not home anymore? Looking back at the pair, and Kelly, who seems to have become more relaxed and is looking at me differently, I realize something.

Those two, they have powers that are something right out of a sci-fi novel. And that alien, Garrus I think they called it, it wasn't a costume. It was real flesh and blood. I guess this really is 2185.

I can't deny it. You don't get to study mechanical engineering by ignoring the facts when they're staring you right in the face: the hologram tech, that blue barrier, those powers, the aliens. Now the only question is what now?

I feel someone tapping my face. "What?" It's Shepard.

"Hey, don't zone out of me now." An orange, hell I don't know what to call it, it looks like a laptop that was flattened and rolled into a cylinder, turned into a hologram and planted on her arm. She taps a few buttons and the space between the handcuffs expands; keeping me secured, but giving me more mobility with my hands. "We still got more questions before we decide what to do with you."

**Normandy: Starboard viewing bay**

It's real: all of it. The year, the place, Humanity has now reached out into the galaxy. I look out the 'window' and see nothing but the vast emptiness of space, dotted by the lights of faraway stars. A great big void that appears before you, ready to swallow you whole and never let you go. It is both a captivating and terrifying sight. A sign of how far Humanity has become.

As a fan of science-fiction, you could assume I would be ecstatic, overjoyed by the prospect of being in an era where what is commonplace by many to be the stuff of dreams and imaginations of my generation.

You couldn't be more wrong. My friends, family, everyone I've ever known is dust and ashes. I am truly alone. Least, if this is my home. That is to say: my reality. Seems it might not even be that, judging by the information Shepard let me read. The Earth's history has been the same as mine until the 2020s. That's when the changes began to appear: a border conflict here, civil war, a unification. So much was different. And according to their records, least as far back as they could reach, no one with my name was ever born, not even my parents. As clean a slate as anyone could hope for. I could have gone out and made my own way into the galaxy. Started a new life, find a job, start a family. But where would I start?

Sighing, I fall into one of the couches in the room, the soft velvet like substance cushioning my body. I have nothing to my name. No credit, no job history. Where would I even begin? It would be a tedious process to register. Not to mention all the questioning I would be forced to endure. That's not to mention I don't even have any money to my name. Seems the galactic economy runs on some sort of universally accepted credit. I could probably sell some of stuff I brought with me as antiquities. Make some cash that way, but how long would that last?

Least Shepard doesn't see me as a threat now. Took what felt like a few more hours of questioning and debate to prove my innocence. Now I'm pretty much allowed free reign except in restricted areas, like the armory and the Captain's cabin. I truly have no direction now. Shepard says she's going to drop me off at somewhere called the Citadel. Says she'll put in a good word for me, help me get my feet off the ground. But I have to ask myself: do I really want to leave?

I asked Shepard during my interrogation, what frightened her so much. What I saw in her eyes during our fight. To frighten a woman such as her to her core, and it's the reason why I don't just try to restart my life here. Yes, it would be difficult but doable. After all, seems 'playing dead' is a popular tax dodge according to Shepard. The reasons she gave me, one would think she's insane. But, after seeing the evidence she provided, I can't help but believe her.

First she told me of The Citadel and the Mass Relay network, the central seats of the Galactic government and the primary means of FTL travel respectively. The entire galaxy was connected by a pre-established means of travel. A god given grace, and a disappointment. Humanity always rose on its own two feet, and here they stand reliant on that which has been made by another. The fact is, it seems far too convenient.

I mean; a galaxy wide empire which was powerful enough to establish something like the relays, up and vanished within was possibly a few decades, or centuries? It made no sense, not unless they were wiped out by something extremely powerful. Even if the 'Protheans' as the precursor species were called, became a galaxy traveling species, they would not have taken all of their people with them? Not to mention, there would be far more ruins and abandoned cities then there were. And when I asked for examples of Prothean architecture, it felt even more wrong. The designs were too different. Comparing the relays and the citadel to what was found in Prothean ruins, the designs were too different. I can understand the changes in architecture and art styles but, the differences were too great. Prothean architecture possessed beauty, and then shifted to a more utilitarian scheme. But The Citadel and the Relays themselves, they were neutral, undefined. You could connect them to any sort of art style, artistic in its appearance, utilitarian in its design, organic yet mechanical. No species ever creates that kind of design, that level of unity.

Least until she told me of the Reapers. A fleet of sentient warships the length of a kilometer, or even more? That they were the reason for the Prothean's extinction, and that they had been doing so for millions of years during 'cycles' 50 millennia apart? Yeah, I would think she's crazy too. But I can't ignore the facts. I saw the connections for myself. The Reapers, the Citadel, the Relays. These 'Reapers' were guiding the growth the galaxy along the paths they desire. Along a path they know how to react. If Humanity or even any of the other species devised any other means of FTL travel, the war would be already won before it began. But now? I pull myself off the couch and step towards the 'window'.

The stars, once, they were the source of dreams and imagination. A place beyond our reach that we could all aspire to one day reach and continue to expand. A chance to discover, grow and begin again. It filled us all with such hope. A chance at a new age. But now, they are a source of fear and nightmares. Of death and extinction, of a coming war that we as a people may not be able to survive, let alone win.

I want to try and help, but what can I do? I'm just a civvie. Not a solider, nor a specialist, just an engineer with lots of crazy ideas. Granted, maybe I can create new weapons for the coming war, I want to do more but- the doors hiss open behind me. I steel my features and suppress my fear and doubt. When I turn, it's the red head from before. "Hello, Ms. Kelly correct?"

"***" I couldn't hear what she said.

"Excuse me?" I ask, my tone polite and calm, trying not to come off as rough or rude.

"It's Chambers." She replied. "Kelly Chambers." I give her a small smile and she returns it, if tentatively.

"Well than 'Ms. Chambers'," though I say it in a playful rather than sarcastic tone. "Please let me start by apologizing for before." She recognizes what I was talking about, but I continue before she can say anything. "Please understand that I did what I did out of fear. Having no clue where I was, only that I was a captive and most of my possessions confiscated, I desired only escape. Though, I did not intend to cause any injury for that and I am sorry." The look on her face tells of her emotions, she is surprised at my action. "Ms. Chambers?"

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she responds, "I'm sorry. I'm not used to people responding that way. It was almost-" she pauses, unsure how to end it.

"Chivalrous?" I supply. She nods in agreement. "I am not surprised, it is a dying way. Humanity as a whole has forgotten or left behind such ideals. I try to keep them alive for when the situation allows it. To fight and live with honor, when I can." She smiles at my declaration.

"And when it doesn't?"

"Then I try and stay alive no matter the cost. Unless that is, that others must pay the price."

"A worthy ideal to live by."

" 'All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing.' " She nods in reply.

In an attempt to get rid of some tension I decide to ask her what her job was on the Normandy. Shepard, the commander of the ship, The Normandy SR2 she told me, gave me the basic rundown on galactic history and current events.

"I serve as Shepard's yeomen. Along with serving as the ship's counselor and psychologist.

"So…" Scratching my chin in an exaggerated thinking posture, "You basically make sure Shepard remembers to dot her 'I's and cross her 'T's. While making sure everyone is sane and happy?", I finish with a great grin. She laughs, a good sign, she's starting to feel more comfortable around me.

Eventually calming down, she nodded. "Not the way I would have worded it but yes."

From there, it became easier to talk with her. Our history, likes and dislikes. Hell, she was so similar to some people I knew, once you got past how cheery she seemed to be perpetually, you couldn't help but like her.

Things were going well until she asked, "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" When I look at her she frowns. "Don't try and hide it. I can tell you're hiding something." _She can tell? How? No one ever managed to see past my mask! _"You're good I'll give you that, but I'm better." _If she can read me that well, then there's no point in trying to hide it. _

I sigh, my body and face relaxes, showing the fear I felt. "It's just. Shepard told me happened two years ago. And what's happening now. I want to do more but I can't. I mean, what can I do? I'm not anyone special."

"So you want to be part of something more. But you're unsure how to go about it?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Then ask." _What?_ "Ask Shepard to let you stay. To try and do something on the team."

I snort. "Yeah, right. What, just go up to her and say 'Hey Commander, I want to help you, can I join?' " saying it in an over the top nasally voice.

"Well then." She gets up and heads for the door. "You better figure it out soon. You are at a crossroads in your life. Whatever your decision, you will have to stand by it for the rest of your life." With that the doors close behind her.

I sigh. _I know that Ms. Chambers it's just. _ I pinch my eyes together. _Just what am I supposed to do? _Lying down on the couch, I take one last look at the stars before I close my eyes. _Maybe after some sleep I'll know. _

_A/N: Like I said before people, this chapter was going up no matter what the vote was. This could be in first, third or even last place right now. I'm going to wait a while before shutting down the poll but as now I am working on the next chapters for all except CoM. Also, for those of you who think that for someone to learn all those martial arts is not possible. It is. Based off of real personal history. That is to say my own and my friends, learning martial arts at an early age and then doing personal cross training. Along with practiced among friends and family in the military. Oh, piece of advice, unless you are in shape and/or have done martial arts, never volunteer to spar with anyone in the military. Even light sparring hurts._

_PS: Please give me a review! (^)_(^)_

_Betaed by Archer83_


	4. Deals, Designs, and a Promise

New Arrivals V2

A/N: Yeah, for those of you who need it: Warning: much profanity used in a section of this chapter. Now no flagging me for foul language. This story is rated M already anyways, so if you needed the warning, are you sure you belong here?

Also please remember to review! The more reviews I get, the faster I generally write!

Ch. 4

"I design weapons, not because I want a better way to kill someone but so I can make sure that whoever is using my weapons is going to be one who gets to go home."

-An Elkoss Combine Arsenal supplies R&D employee defending his position against a member of "No Weapons means No War" group.

Deals, Designs, and a Promise

When I opened my eyes I expected to be greeted by the sight of a dull gray metal ceiling, with the couch in the corner of my eye. What I get is a different, familiar sight.

"Didn't we just go over this?"

For some reason I'm back in my cell. What I want to know is, A) Why am I in here again? And B) How did they get me in here without waking me up?

Least I'm not handcuffed again. As I get up I look towards the camera again. "Hey, what's going on? I thought we cleared this already?" There's no response. "Hello?" Nothing. Well that's disconcerting. Where was the door again?

Ah, there it is. I touch the areas around where I think the door seams; looking for any sort of mechanism to open it. No such luck. Letting out a sigh I realize there's nothing to do but wait. That, and think on what could have gotten me thrown in here again after being interrogated before for so long. She agreed I was no real threat. Yeah I had some pretty decent hand-to-hand combat skills, but nothing to worry about. And that was the biggest issue. She thought I was a little crazy but she was giving me some leeway in that. And that there was no way I was a spy or anything of the sort. If I was, I was doing a pretty piss poor job at it. We both had a good laugh at that. There was nothing we talked about that would have made her wary of me. At this point there's nothing for me to do but wait.

And I don't have to wait long. It's not even ten minutes before the doors open and Shepard is standing there, and seriously ticked off my the look on her face. She steps into my cell, even as the door close behind her, and she throws something at my feet.

"You lied to me." She snarled. "You said you were a civvie, non-military. Said you never had any sort of formal military training. You lied." Wait, what did I lie about?

"What are you talking about? I didn't lie about anything." She doesn't even respond, just giving me a withering glare. I swear it felt someone just shoved ice down my back. Just what did she throw at me though?

When I pick it up I realize it's one of notebooks, and-Oh crap. I realize why she's pissed and thinking I lied to her. This particular notebook contains my designs, weapon designs specifically. All of it was purely theory back home. Designs utilizing and requiring levels of technology well beyond my generation's means, hell for five generations my designs would considering purely theoretical. But here, damn it I got to explain to her before anything else happens!

"Now Shepard let me explain-Urk!" I HATE BIOTICS!

She's pinned me to the wall, her face twisted in rage, baring her teeth in uncontainable anger. "Damn it Shepard! I'm didn't lie about who I am!" What the hell does it take to get some trust around here!

"Bullshit! Those designs were drawn by someone with a detailed knowledge of weapon designs. Those designs violate not one but multiple intergalactic weapons treaties so I ask again: just who are you?" Her biotic aura flares and the pressure on my body increases. "Tell me the truth or so help me I'll toss you out the airlock!"

Fuck this now I'M pissed off! "Damn it! I told you the god damn fucking truth before! Look me in the eyes and tell me if I'm fucking lying to you!" This time when she glares at me I respond in kind. "Have you even had someone who understands look at my designs in detail?" I scream. When she doesn't respond it just pisses me off even more. "You idiot! If you had someone look at the designs, you would be able to tell they're still incomplete! Incomplete heat-sink designs for the rail system! An undetermined power supply for the magnetic accelerators! Unfinished Gaussian acceleration and rapid-expansion based acceleration hybridized equations! Some of them are designed for chemical propellants based munitions! Every single damn fucking one of them is a purely theoretical and unfinished design!" I scream at her with as much venom in my voice as I can muster.

Don't know how long we were staring each other down but something in my voice must have persuaded her. She releases her biotics, both her aura and the biotic field holding me to the wall dissipates as I fall to the floor. *Cough cough* I look back her from the floor as I get up on one knee, her glare is gone but there's still that look of distrust.

But it disappears as she leans against the wall herself, her eyes downcast. "Alright... Let's say I believe you... I know what it's like to tell people the unbelievable truth, and have them shove it back in your face. They didn't believe me about Saren. And they didn't believe me about the Reapers... So I'll play devil's advocate and trust you. (Not to mention Jacob tried to convince me of the same thing)." She turns towards me and gives me a hard stare. "But if you even try to double cross me... If I find out that you're lying..." Her fist is wrapped in a biotic glow. "I'm going to flay you alive with my biotics before I put a bullet in your brain pan."

Scoffing at that I reply, "I betray you; I'll provide you the bullets myself." I smile at the end of it, receiving one in return. "I have to ask though: do they really violate weapons treaties?"

The glow around her fist dissipates. "Some of them yeah: your anti-infantry grenade designs violate a few each." A smirk grows on her face, "Wish someone else came up with these."

"Which ones?"

"The Splicer model." My eyes grow wide at that. Just what the hell did she have to face, that she would want something like the Splicer? That thing is basically a violation of the Geneva conventions of warfare in a can. I shudder at the prospect.

"Sounds like you could have used them." My own smirk having grown on my face, despite the fear I felt at whatever enemy would need a weapon like the Splicer.

"Yeah, probably could have." She pushes herself off the wall. "So, a little bird tells me you want to help the cause?"

"Would this 'little bird' happen to have red hair and a blinding bright personality?"

Giving me a knowing smile she answered, "Maybe. What I want to know is: why? You barely know me so you're not a fan-boy or anything. Not many people are willing to help a crazy person."

"For the record, I don't think you're crazy." At the look of disbelief she gave me, I explained, "I believe you, what you said about the Reapers. I saw the connections, I'm not blind. But that's not the reason. Truth is, I don't really know why. Just feel like I should. Don't really know what I can do, aside from making you weapons unless you decide to train me."

"And say I were to train you, what would I need to do?"

"Unless there's some sort of specialization I can learn, I say just weapons and gear. Don't need to put me through PT (Physical Training), still fit from constant practice of martial arts. For the same reasons you don't need to teach me hand-to-hand combat. Not the basics at any rate."

She nods before bringing up her left arm and calling up, she told me what it was before, her omnitool. Tapping a few commands into it to make the door open.

"We're docking at the Citadel in a few days. Meet me in cockpit around Noon. I'll take you the firing range." I nod as she leaves the room. So she's taking me to-Wait what did she say?

**Normandy SR2: Cockpit**

"So…You're the Commander's new pet project?" I swear, if this was a manga or something, I would have a visible tick mark on my head right now. As it was, my right hand had formed a fist. Thankfully it was out of the pilot's view as my hands were behind my back. Why anyone would have a pilot as infuriating as him… "Is it true the Commander found you outside her room sleeping off a hangover? If that's true then damn, you are either the ballsiest or craziest person I ever met."

Meet Jeff "Joker" Moreau, possibly one of the most irritating and if the reports are to be believed, best, though I'm kind of unsure about that part, pilot in the Human Systems Alliance. Apparently he has something called Vrolik's syndrome. It makes his bones incredibly brittle, so as much I want to hit him upside the head, Leroy Jethro Gibbs style, I can't.

Suppressing the urge to spin his chair around a few times as A) He's piloting the ship, and B) I'm not sure if I could. Chair is driven mechanically so… "I don't know. When I woke up, I was in a cell. You'll have to ask Shepard about that." Only reason I'm here is 'cause Jacob, one of the first people here I saw a few days ago when I first woke up in this place, told me it's a sight everyone should see on their first trip to the Citadel. Right now we're still in FTL, so all I see are blue streaks from the FTL and the stars passing by.

"Hey, is it true that you also knocked down Garrus's ass? And went head-to-head with the Commander in a fist-fight?"

"Garrus, he's the bird-reptile thing right? A Turian right?"

He tries, and fails, to suppress a snort of laughter. "Bird-reptile thing? Oh, I'm going to have to tell him that one. But yeah, him."

"No I didn't 'knock him down' as you said. Almost nailed a good punch on him but he jumped out of the way. I managed to stop him from trying to pin me with my arm. It didn't get much farther than that before Jane jumped in." I pause, reflecting on the fight once more. Nothing else was more exhilarating that those few minutes. Well, there is one thing but- Shaking off that particular train of thought, I revert back to the fight. Though she may have beaten me, we matched move for move, counter for counter for the longest time. It was just one continuous motion; with each action leading to the next. At least that was how it felt to me. "Yeah, I did go against her in hand-to-hand but she beat me soundly."

"Yeah, she flipped you on your ass is what I heard." He starts laughing.

"Yeah yeah, keep it up Mr. Moreau, and I'll have a new sparring partner by the end of the day."

His laughter dies away. "Ah seriously, only EDI calls me that. Now you too?" To the left of the pilot's chair, there's a small platform. A small blue orb appears from it. It's EDI's avatar.

"I did not mean to cause any discomfort Mr. Moreau. I assumed referring to you as such was a sign of respect."

EDI, Shepard told me about her. Apparently she's the ship's Artificial Intelligence. Despite what she and Miranda says about her being 'shackled', which means that she has virtually no control over critical aspects of the ship and is unable to act against Organics, I don't trust it. Don't get me wrong, AIs are vastly useful. I just don't trust them. I don't think it'll happen here but, AI's are for all intents and purposes, virtual people. If they are abused and used, (and not in that sense, get your minds out of the gutter people), then eventually they snap and redirect anger they never knew they had at others. Doesn't seem like it'll happen here but call me paranoid. I won't take any precautions, but neither will I be caught off guard.

Tuning out the rest of their bickering, I think back on to what Shepard told me yesterday.

"Look, I got a few things to do before I take you to the firing range. Until then, I suggest you try and get some new clothes. One of the crew will help you get around. Go have some fun. We got more than a few credits for you to spend." When I asked why she simply shrugged. "Just feel like being nice. I usually am a very kind person." When I snorted at that, with good reason, she basically pouted. "Hey now, that time was only because I was in a bad mood that time. When people piss me off, things usually go to hell."

I swear she's almost bipolar. I wonder if- "Dropping out of FTL in 5." Looking to Joker, his hands to dancing over the holo-panel in front of him, there's barely a jolt before the streaking lights of FTL travel fade away to reveal the gases of the Serpent Nebula. "We are coming up on the Citadel. Come up closer Lee. Trust me; you don't want to miss this."

Taking up the offer, I set closer towards the front to where I'm standing to his right, looking straight out the windows. He had done me the courtesy of bringing down a few of the displays so I could get a clearer view for which I give him a quick thanks. He may have a big mouth but he's not so bad. The gasses are starting to thin out. Just how big is this thing supposed to be…anyway…

Oh my lord and mighty.

Massive doesn't even begin to cover the size of the thing. There are five massive platform segments; I can barely make out the silhouettes of hundreds of towers on one of them. And all of them are connected to a single hoop. And over 13 million people live on this thing? Just what have I gotten myself into?

**Citadel: Zakera Wards docks: Security Checkpoint**

At this moment I am really, and I mean really, grateful that Shepard was kind enough to give me a spare omni-tool and a copy of the Galactic Codex. And that I read it over. And that it contained illustrations. Otherwise, I think I would be having a heart attack right now from seeing all these different alien species. Being at a security checkpoint means that pretty much at least one of every alien species is standing in line. Shaking my head I can't help but think that despite how far Humanity has come, one thing is never going to change and forever remain the bane of all life: paperwork.

Shepard, who for some reason is decked out in full armor but only carrying a sidearm, waves me over. "Come on, let's get going." Wait, what's going on? Miranda Jacob and Garrus are already there waiting on me. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."

I make my way over to them, "So we're just going past everyone?" I can feel the glares people are giving us pressing down on my neck. "Can't help but feel we're somehow legally circumventing the law here…" And cue anime-style sweat drops from the others. The doors part and we enter a corridor. There's a single Turian at the end standing over a terminal waiting. The left wall is just a glass screen but I see other uniformed people on the other side, all of them armed.

Shaking her head Miranda answers, "Our organization has multiple permits and passes that allow us to generally bypass much of the standard security checks and paperwork. There are only a few that our permits do not allow us to bypass."

Case in point she gestures to the Turian typing away a display. Guess a final security sweep. Shepard's first, though not a good sign when the panel flashes red.

"Should we be worried?"

No one answers and since the Turian just sweeps his hand in a dismissive manner I guess not. Everyone else gets the same treatment. Though Miranda gets a second look by the scanner, Jacob just goes through, Garrus nods to the guy so they know each other. It's not until I go that it goes to hell.

This time the panel flashes red, then orange, green, and again red, before restarting and reverting to its natural blue color. This time though, the guard is touching what I think is his comm. piece. Still don't understand a word he's saying though. Though I don't like how his hand, er claws, uh talons? Whatever you call them, they're resting on his pistol. An M-3 Predator pistol if I'm right. Decided to do some research on basic weapons tech during the trip.

"Uh, Commander? Help?"

"What's going on here?"

The Turian chirps and clicks as he taps away again at the terminal.

"What do you mean that it's saying that he doesn't in the system exist at all?"

The Turian gestures for her to come closer and points to the terminal and she leans closer to get a better look.

"We found him in the Terminus Systems." Miranda? "We found no records on him at all, but considering where he's from it's not surprising. We brought him here to help register into the systems." I thought she hated me. Why is sticking her neck out for me?

I send her a grateful nod but she barely looks at me. Ah, so that's. She's not doing it by choice, but someone told her to. The only question is who? Oh boy. Miranda's walking toward me, and she doesn't look happy. "Come on, get over here. We need to get moving."

"What's going on?"

"The Commander has other tasks she needs doing. She has assigned me as your babysitter." She says the last part with so much disdain. "First we need to get you registered in the system. Where we go next is up to you." She turns, the doors opening as she steps forward.

Following her I can't help but mutter, "Oh joy. Paperwork…"

Betaed by Archer83


	5. Implants, Armors, and Dreams

New Arrivals V2

A/N: All translations will be listed on the bottom. Also, apologizes for any errors in foreign language or butchering of the foreign language. Used google translate. Also, please let me know if this format is okay for the languages.

Also, sorry for last time this story 'updated'. I accidentally posted this chapter when it was unfinished. Missing names and the like and didn't realize until Jyggalag told me. Thank you my friend! Again sorry and this one, should be, mostly, error free and finished.

Also, hold off of flames until the author's note. For the random scenes that don't seem to make sense. And other things at the bottom.

A/N: (2): Poll notice on the bottom.

"This was never my fight. No one ever told me to stand shoulder to shoulder among Gods and Heroes on the Frontlines. But after seeing someone like her, standing there. I thought to myself: 'If they are willing to fight, can I live with myself if I do anything less?' "

-Militia Volunteer at the Battle for Shanxi, 2157

Chapter 5

One hour, several dozen forms, and one cramped hand later and I am now a registered Human being in the Citadel Systems. Miranda was anything but amused. Despite how long it took, it was much shorter than it normally would have been. Least, according to the Citadel Security officer, she, well least I think she was a she, another Turian, said this normally took days. Because it meant running from one place to another to get through the red tape, and that was just to register your name. Guess knowing Commander Shepard helps. Wasn't long after before Miranda started dragging my ass to god knows where, I can't even look at any of the stores or what's going around me because of her, ignoring my questions and then unceremoniously throwing me inside, what she called, a Skycar.

I opened my mouth to ask again. "We are heading to a clinic owned by a Doctor Chloe Michel: for your Universal Translator Implant." She doesn't even look at me while the 'car', uh, takes off. I don't have a good feeling about this. I see a smirk appear on her face at my discomfort. "The Normandy has its own complete Surgery, but a UTI surgery requires facilities beyond what are onboard and they are strictly regulated. Now do us a favor and be quiet until we get there."

Why this woman is such a bitch is something I will probably never understand. A first glace she's a goddess that come unto Earth. But now she's more a damn succubus. Pleasant to look at, but you're not careful and she'll suck the life out of you. "si, si me consigues, tu bruja loco."*

"Oh please. I don't even remotely look like a hag. Make another comment like that and I don't care what the Commander says. The Citadel is a big place. It would be easy to 'lose' you in the crows." What the hell? Is she bullshitting me? When I look at her face, despite how she's showing as much emotion as rock: she's serious. I slump in my seat; I know when someone has the upper hand. "Good boy."

The rest of the ride is traveled in silence. As I look out the window, I can't help but think of home. Just how is everyone doing? Have they noticed I'm missing yet? I don't know. It was near the end of summer break back home when I woke up here. God she reminds so much-No, no. I will not fall back into that memory.

"Get up. We're here."

As we exit the car, I can't help but notice how this area seems more, quiet? There isn't as many people around here as there were back at the security checkpoint. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I just follow Miranda as she's the only one that knows where we're going. As we walk, Miranda is having an obvious effect on the local male population. I saw more than one, Human and Alien, walk right into someone's back or a wall because their eyes were glued to Miranda. Idiots, I'm a guy myself and I'm not saying Miranda isn't pleasant to look at but honestly? Don't people have more self-control?

Some of them, seeing me follow Miranda, glance towards me. Giving me nods and other looks. I give them a heated glare in response. The way these people are, I swear, those of us who follow some of the old codes are ever further and fewer in between. Thankfully it all stops once we enter the clinic, obvious because of the glowing universal first aid sign.

"Doctor Michel?"

"Oui, S'il vous plaît donnez-moi un instant." (Yes, Please give me a moment.) Hmm… This clinic doesn't look all that different from something back home. Yeah there's some other tech that wouldn't exist, like the dispenser with the aid sign on the wall but otherwise, doesn't seem that different. "Oui, je suis le docteur Michel. Maintenant, qui êtes-vous et qu'avez-vous besoin?" (Yes, I'm Dr. Michel. Now, who are you and what do you need?)

"He needs a UTI. Commander Shepard herself suggested this place."

"Une UTI? Comment peut-il ne pas en avoir un? Et vous dites que vous avez envoyé Shepard?"( A UTI? How can he not have one? And you say that you sent Shepard? ) She started moving towards me. "Pouvez-vous me comprendre?"( Can you understand me?)

"Oui je le fais, mais il a fait quelques années que je pratique le français. Je m'excuse pour tout retard de ma part."( Yes I do, but it has been a few years that I practice French. I apologize for any delay on my part.) Doctor Michel smiles, and my glance towards Miranda, there's just the slightest amount of surprise and, disappointment, in her eyes. Least until she hides it as soon as I see it. Sticking to my provided story I tell her, "Ils m'ont trouvé les systèmes Terminus. Shepard est celui qui m'a trouvé. Je n'ai jamais eu un UTI par manque de crédits." (They found me Terminus systems. Shepard is the one who found me. I never had a UTI had a lack of credits.)

The doctor smiles, "Eh bien, c'est agréable d'entendre quelqu'un parler en français réelles alors ces traducteurs. Alors, où avez-vous appris le français? Je suppose que l'université?"( Well, it's nice to hear someone speak real French then these translators. So where did you learn French? I guess the university? ")

"Oui, environ huit ans ensemble depuis le lycée."( "Yes, about eight years total since high school.)

"Eh bien, qui explique votre accent. Savoir, permet de discuter de paiement pour l'UTI puis lancez-vous serons-nous?" (Well, that explains your accent. Know, lets discuss payment for UTI then start working shall we? "

"The money has already been wired to your account doctor. For the latest UTI; thirteenth generation."

The doctor pulled up her omnitool, and I think she just checked over her account or something because she then said, "Bon, laisse ensuite pénétrer dans l'aile la chirurgie afin que nous puissions vous mettre sous et obtenir cela a commencé."

"Et combien de temps cela prendra?" I ask. (And how long will this take?)

"Peu de temps du tout le moins, il ne devrait pas."(An hour at the most, it shouldn't be longer.)

**Several Hours later**

"Ahh..." The surgery didn't take too long; almost an hour was all it took. Most of our time spent there was actually testing the UTI. Learning how to sync it to my omnitool and install new software as needed. But even after so many hours my neck is still sore. My hand goes again to the back of my neck to massage it. We left the clinic an hour or so ago and traveled to another of the wards. Zakera I think. There are people of every species running around. Alone, couples, friends and family groups. Hard to believe according to what I've been told, this place under went some major damage and repairs two years ago. Looking around, seeing all these people, you would never think anything like what happened then actually ever occurred. It seems more like just one big story.

But by the Heavens above, or whatever afterlife you believe in, this place incredible. And I mean incredible. I'm a New Yorker born and raised. So New York, Times Square, Central Park, it was normal for me. It never fazed me. And after the naked singing cowboy and others like him, nothing really fazed us New Yorkers after that. Every strange thing was simply the flavor of the week.

But the Citadel, the wards, they put New York to shame. The sheer size of the sky, well I guess they can't really be called skyscrapers can they? Whatever someone calls them, they are simply massive. It's impossible to see their tops. The ones that you can are at least a few miles away. Other skycars are zipping clear across the airspace above; weaving through the maze of towers, everything from the small thing that Miranda so unceremoniously threw me into earlier to what looks like this century's equivalent of semi-trailer big rigs. I-"Ofh!" What did I just walk…in…to… Oh boy.

It's this big reptile thing, but this one's much more muscular and with a great big crest on its head and a massive hump. A Krogan if I recall correctly, and one of the meanest species in the galaxy. Probably one of the few species that loves fighting more than Humanity. And We Humans love conflict. Don't believe me? Just look at the 20th and 21st centuries. More conflicts between those two eras than any other previous century. And this one has a massive scowl on its face. Backing up I raise my hands in surrender. "Uh, sorry?"

He, I think it's a he at any rate, snorts. "You should be more careful Human. Not many Krogan would take you walking into them without getting mad." The Krogan cracks a grin. "Lucky for you, I'm not one of them."

"Uh-Thanks?"

"Ha! Just be more watchful where you step. Now, be gone with you!" The Krogan makes a shooing gesture before going on its way.

Shit that was "Thwack!"

"Ouch!" What the hell? I turn to find Miranda glaring at me and her right hand wrapped in a biotic glow. From the anger of her face, I guess that mean I should ogle the stores later. Note to self: never piss off a biotic person. Biotics plus head slap, Gibbs-Style, equals a lot of hurt.

"So," I try to keep up with her while trying to take in everything I see. "Where are we headed to now?"

"Going to the Hahne-Kedar distributor to get you fitted for your armor. I don't know how you convinced the commander to let onto the crew," Abruptly she stopped and turned, giving me a hard stare, "If it was up to me, I would have just thrown you out the airlock and onto Omega. But as it is-"

"As it is, for which I am very grateful for, it's not up to you." Fuming, she turns and heads off at a faster pace and I follow. "The armor, anything I should know about?"

"Once you are fitted, they'll give you an estimate for cost and time for production. As it is, you are getting a basic platform similar to the Commander's at her request."

"Meaning?"

"You can read the manual. I'm supposed to get you your armor, not be your bloody tour guide."

"Alright alright I get it. Damn, you really are an ice queen you know that sometimes?" She didn't answer and just kept walking. "Honestly. What did I do to deserve this?"

"That's what I'm wondering."

"I say-"

"Daddy!"

"Ufh!" What just hit me? I look down and there's little Asari girl, not more than four maybe five years old, and she's just glomped onto my leg!

"Daddy! You're home!" Wait's going on? "Daddy?" She looks up at me with these big pretty green eyes, "Don't you remember me?"

Uh, I. I feel something on my shoulder and turn my head to see Miranda. She shakes her head, but I shake mine in return. Dropping to a knee, I bring myself eye level with the girl. "I'm sorry little one, but I'm not your daddy. Wh-"

"No! No! You are my daddy! You are!" She stomps her feet in the way children do. Her eyes start to glisten with unshed tears. "You are my daddy…"

I wipe away the tears with my hand, gently. But I ask myself, why am I doing this? As nice as I am, this is not normal for me. Normally if this happened to me I'd, actually, I don't know what I would do. Not act like this though, that much I'm sure. "Hey hey, no crying now you hear?" She gives the faintest of nods. "What's your name?"

"C-C-Cecelia." Her tiny hands are rubbing her eyes, trying to hide her tears.

"Well, C-C-Cecelia," She smiles at me, a giggle escaping her lips, "Do you know where your mommy is?" I pick her up in my arms and thankfully she's not trying to escape me or anything. "Where did you come from?"

"I-"

"Cecelia!" I crane my head above the crowd, despite how many people there are, I can still see the Asari that just yelled, "Cecelia baby where are you!"

Cecelia called out to her. "Mama!" The mother's head snaps towards our direction, trying to find us. I wave my hand to help her find us. "Mama!"

"Cecelia!" She all but sprints toward us. "Cecelia my baby!" She pulls her from my grasp and hugs her like she was a lifeline. "My baby."

"Look mama, I found daddy!"

"Cecelia I told you, your daddy isn't…coming…back…Goddess." Her jaw progressively dropped as she turned her attention away from her daughter and to me. "Is that you?"

"I'm sorry, but who are you speaking of?"

"Isaac it's you! Goddess, but I thought you died two years during the Geth attack. They told me they never found your body but, thank the Goddess!" Her happiness is just radiating from her, whoever this man was, probably felt like the luckiest man in the universe.

Damn it, it really pains me to hear me say this but I can't let her to keep thinking that I'm her late-husband. "Ma'am I'm sorry but, like I told your daughter, I am not who you think I am. I have been living the Terminus for a better part of my life and have not even so much as seen the Citadel Relay until recently. I am sorry for your loss but I am not your late-husband." Even as I finish, I can't help but wince. That was so cold of me to say it like that but it was necessary. I can see her expression visibly deflate. Her radiant joy fading away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that, you look so much like my last husband. No, you look exactly like him." Her cheeks gain a bluer hue then the rest of her.

"It-it's alright." That statement sends a shudder running down my spine. "Will you be alright now then?"

"Oh, oh yes we'll be ok. I apologize again for Cecelia."

"It's alright." Directed toward Cecelia I add, "It's not every day I get to meet a small angel."

Both of them smiled. "He used to say that too. Oh, my how rude of me, I never even got your name; I'm Velisha L'ronis."

"It's alright, and it's Christoph Ma'am. And I am sorry but I do need to leave."

"Oh, I'm sorry. We'll be leaving you to your business then. Good day to you. Cecelia, say good bye to the gentleman."

"Wait, before you go, let me give you my omni-tool contact info. It would be nice to have a friend on the Citadel." Smiling , she records and transfers her own information to my omni-tool.

Cecelia waves to me, "Bye daddy…" I smile and signal her mother that it's okay before they walk away. Cecelia turns in her mother's arm, looking at me even as they walk away. I keep watching them until they are swallowed by the crowd.

*Sigh* I almost wish that those two were right about who I am. Maybe then a dream wouldn't only be a dream. "Ms. Lawson, you have the lead." She doesn't answer.

"Ms. Lawson?" When I look upon the Ice Queen's face, that moniker doesn't fit anymore. A small tear threatens to leak from her eye until she wipes it away.

"C'mon then, we need to hurry or we'll be late." She tries to hide it but I can still hear her voice falter. I follow her, muttering under my breath:

"Ms. Lawson, that is more likely to be your future, then my own."

**Several Hours Later**

"Well? Does it fit?" Miranda asked. "If we are going to do, then we may as well do it right. If the Commander is seriously going to bring you with her, I am not going to risk her life by allowing anyone on the crew sub-standard armor." She's been standing there, watching me as I got into the armor. Well, my armor now I guess. At least she only watched me getting into the armor and not the body suit that came with it. Before she was watching me as I stripped out of my borrowed clothes, before I finished I asked her if she was enjoying the free show. She blushed slightly but didn't sputter when she retorted: saying she had seen finer bodies then mine. Thankfully she turned as I got into the under-layer bodysuit.

This armor suit is pretty nice though. Not taking much to actually put on. It only took me a while because I wasn't exactly sure how to, but even then it wasn't that bad. Whoever designed this thing made it so it was really user friendly. There are also ports where some of the armor components bolt themselves onto. They must be a part of a modular system.

The thing is heavy though. "So… Am I expected to move in, what, a couple dozen or so kilos of armor?"

Smirking she answers, "Despite that it would be interesting to see you attempting to do so, no. It's more or less a low-energy powered armor. Nothing superhuman but it will allow you to move more or less normally."

"Yeah well, mind turning it on then? This isn't exactly comfortable." She raises an eyebrow. "Please?" I swear I would like nothing more than to wipe that smirk off her face as she taps the back of my armor. The weight lessens as power begins to course through the armor. I hear a snap before a blue static charge passes from my feet towards my head.

"There. Now whenever you put on your armor, the residual charge should be enough to activate it. What you saw just there were your shields recharging. A Micro-sized reactor in the suit provides the power."

"So how long will I be working to pay this off?"

"You should be grateful for this. You won't have to."

When she says that I give her the most intelligent response I could think of that moment.

"Huh?"

"Our organization has already paid for everything. And will be for anything else you may need while working for Shepard."

"How the hell-"

"The commander. Don't ask how or why. All I know is my boss agreed, so be grateful."

Just how serious is Shepard. I said I would help but I'd figured more along the lines of logistics, engineering or support. Not as direct ground action. For now I'll take the armor without argument but I need to have a talk with Shepard. This is not something anyone can just half ass. I need to figure out just how far she's going to let me into her crew. And just why she's even going this far for me. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. If it wasn't for her, I'd be out on my ass in the streets or floating in vacuum." I check myself out in the armor. There's no mirror so it's mostly what I can see. "Does she realize I haven't actually made up my mind yet?"

"What do you mean?" She asks.

I sigh. "I mean that I'm still not sure if I should actually join her or not." Sparing a glance toward hers I add, "And we already know where you stand on that idea. Just…Is she that certain I will join her? When I don't even know myself?"

I test the pivots in the armor. Rotating my shoulders, extending and folding my elbows and knees, etc, I even go as far to see how flexible this armor is. That is to say, very. Most midlevel martial artists, that is to say, a rank or two from their first black belt for the disciplines it applies to, are able to pull a near 180 degree split, even the guys.

"Perhaps, the Commander does have a certain, charisma. Many have taken her words to heart one before."

"It seems you are an example." When she starts to glare at me I add, "She got you to keep an eye on me didn't she?" Even the Ice Queen can't argue that point. I'm still testing this armor's, well I guess mine now, mobility. Now that it's powered up, doesn't seem to hinder my motion that much.

My master could do a full 180 degrees split if he wanted. Almost could myself but not quite, and this armor just keeps me just shy of my limit. Awkward as it may have been, I don't regret it. Better to find the limits of the armor before I actually need it. That and the look on Miranda's face when I pulled the near full-split. I swear it never gets old: the shock and awe on people's faces when I pull it off. Getting up from the last stretch I ask, "So, should I change back or just keep this on?"

**Normandy SR2: Main Deck Level**

I sweep my hand across the datapad screen, shifting to a new item. "No. No. No. Hell No." I'm going through the available add-ons and linkable gear, such as visors, currently on the market for this armor. Miranda told me not to change out of it since I would be going to get some weapons training and should get used to using a weapon while wearing the armor. The moment we got back onboard Miranda basically told me to do what I wanted before leaving me and heading into the elevator. Thankfully, the red-head, Kelly, was kind enough to provide me a datapad. The omni-tool is useful and all. But I still prefer a hard tablet.

Right now I'm just leaning against the wall, looking through armor parts, as I wait for Shepard. Not that I know what I'm looking for or what half of these adverts are saying but still. I engage the filter on the armor extranet, the current iteration of the internet, site. Get rid of anything that doesn't go on the head. The helmet the armor came with is decent but I'd much rather have something else. Going to ask Shepard for her opinion, compared to what I'm wearing, it's obvious the commander already procured some alternate components. Hmm…The Death Mask: provides full protection and audio enhancers, both projectors and receivers. Maybe, but how do I even buy it? It's not like I have the money. Maybe-The air lock doors hiss open and I see Jacob and Garrus walk in. Both of them just walk past, giving me the barest glimpse before going past me. Shepard peeks her head out into the hallway.

"Ah, good you're here. Well come on then! We got places to go!" She cracks a grin before disappearing around the corner again. I'm just wondering why I feel like this is going to be a bad day for me...

*Yeah yeah I get it you crazy witch.

A/N:

Hello readers, as warning for later chapters, the realism in this story is mostly character reaction and actions. Not as to the characters themselves or who I bring in from where. Yes, I apologize for not telling you in an author's not beforehand but as I assumed that as this is a rewrite of New Arrivals, it would still be a semi-crossover/OC heavy. And for OCs, a few will be like Lee. Not many. As of now, only two, including Lee are planned.

Yeah, I know this seems cut short but got quite a bit planned for the next chapter or few. All of it, or most, being on the Citadel. Only reason I cut it off here is because need somewhere/thing to start with next chapter. Also, to my friend who gave me a load of helpful suggestions, I am trying to implement them. More so for the next chapter. Thanks again for the help!

Also, for the random fluff moment with the Asari parent and child, they will play a role in the story later on. How much, well, you'll just have to wait. ^^

**Poll Question: Would people mind if I brought back Artyom into the series?**

Also, reviews and opinions please! ^^


	6. Ranges, Questions, What did I just see?

New Arrivals V2

A/N: Lots of filler material in this chapter.

Also, for those of you that asked about Artyom, he is the main protagonist in the Game and Novel Metro 2033. In the first version of this story I had him as a character that also ended up in the Mass Effect Universe. Please read the question on the bottom of the chapter and answer in a review.

Also, warning, this chapter is not my greatest. Lots of filler material and near the end it gets pretty weak.

Thanks to Archer83 for betaing. Go check out his story guys, he's got some good stuff.

"Welcome to 'Pull the Trigger 101'. Private Allen here is gonna do a quick weapons demonstration to show you locals how its done. No offense, but I see a lot of you guys firing from the hip and spraying bullets all over the range. You don't end up hitting a damn thing and it makes you look like an ass."

-Sergeant Foley, Teaching Afghan National Army recruits the proper rules of Weapons Firing.

Chapter 6: Ranges, Questions, "What did I just see?"

**Spectre Offices: Firing range**

Let me tell you something, despite how much I know about the defense industry and the history of weaponry in general, despite how much I know of their mechanics, operations, construction and history, despite how I could probably handle any weapon well enough to at the very least not shoot myself, I have only learned how to handle a weapon because I was taught how to properly.

My first time though, well it wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. I'd gone with a few friends who knew someone with a collection and were willing to let us shoot of some rounds. After everyone had been drilled about proper safety procedures and confirmed that no one was going to be an idiot and point a gun at someone, we had fun. At the end of the day though, one of the guys had dared me to fire a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun, but instead of doing it in a proper stance, to do it like in the movies. From the hip, legs open, completely without bracing my body, aka, like a total idiot. Now, I figured it was loaded with buckshot or something like that. Thinking I could handle the recoil I took the bet. Thinking this would be the easiest $15 bucks I ever made.

Biggest. Mistake. Ever…

I should have realized that it was a prank. It wasn't loaded with buckshot, but with a solid slug cartridge. Now, for those of you who don't understand the difference between buckshot, which is basically a lot of pellets clumped together, solid slug is exactly that, a solid piece of metal. A major difference is recoil, or how much the gun pushes back after being fired. Solid slug has a _much_ greater amount of recoil. Simply put: idiot stance plus solid slug equals numbskull, (me) flying backwards onto his ass.

Something similar just happened, and that is why Shepard is laughing her ass off not five feet from me. "Oh ha ha Shepard, very funny." I grumble at her as I pull myself, and the M-8 Series Avenger rifle she gave me, off the floor. "Very nice Shepard, next time why don't you let me know the thing's a full auto?" Yeah, you heard me right; I got spooked and fell on my ass firing an Avenger. When I pulled the trigger, I held it down thinking this was a semi-auto weapon. I asked beforehand, and Shepard just shrugged me off without answering. When I pulled down on the trigger, well, the long burst scared me enough to jar my stance and the recoil was enough to shake my stance even more. Thankfully I remembered to let go of the trigger, but too little too late and I fell on my ass. I give her my best evil eye but it just makes her laugh even harder.

When she first brought me here, she taught me the basics of current age weaponry. The folding capabilities of the weapons, how the ammunition is sliced off blocks of metal and uses mass accelerators of some sort to fire the metal shard. And how to properly handle the weapon in terms of turning on and off the safety, and engaging the compacting mechanism, and reload the weapon.

She covers her mouth trying to stifle her laughter. "S-s-sorry." And she's failing miserably. She takes a deep breathe to try and calm herself and it works. Mostly; she's still giggling a bit. "Oh, I just-" she's overcome by the giggles yet again. "I'm sorry, I just thought from your designs that you knew how to handle weapons."

Raising an eyebrow I ask her, "How does 'know how to design a theoretical based weapon' translate into being able to effectively handle a weapon?" Seriously how does it? Knowing the mechanics and theoretic does not translate into automatically knowing how to handle a gun. I mean, the only reason I know is because I was taught the proper method.

She shrugs, "I guess you're right." Giving me a taunting smile she asks, "Want to try again?" She's just trying to goad me into making a fool of myself and guess what, it's working. But I think I can turn this against her.

Instead of answering I simply take another stance at the firing line. Bringing the rifle back up to my shoulder, I hold it good and tight to my body so the recoil transfers more smoothly. This thing has a scope mounted to it so I'm going to try and use it, emphasis on try. Despite my having only used real weapons just once in my life, I can tell this sight is a piece of crap. And I'm pretty sure a lot of people would agree. This thing is the bare bones of a red dot sight. And it's pretty crappy too. I'd much prefer iron sights to this thing, but. Taking aim down the range, it's about 55 or so meters down range. Or 60 something yards. Not that far at all, especially with a rifle. Taking a breath, I focus on the target, and let out a burst.

The recoil hits my shoulder but it's not much. Weapons tech really came a long way. Despite how I just let off a six shot burst, it felt like three rapid single shots from a base AR-15 .223 caliber rifle. I let off a few more bursts, getting a little longer with every other burst I let off a twelve shot burst. That last one goes wild, a full quarter of the shots going wide and hitting the top of the target.

Turning on the safety, I eject the Thermal clip and let it clatter to the floor. These 'Thermal Clips' seem useful. They serve as disposable and replaceable heat sinks for these current age weapons. But I find it odd how they shifted their weapon designs. According to Shepard, just two years ago, weapons used internal heat-sinks rather than these replaceable clips. According to her, it was a choice made to allow for troopers to fire at much higher rates and worry less about heat. Instead of worrying about controlling the fire rate to not overheat the weapon, it was more of keeping track of how many shots one had left. I find it odd that the old design would be abandoned so thoroughly. If anything, weapons of both designs should have continued to be made. If not for main weapons, then for backups; if a trooper was in serious firefight, should they run out of thermal clips they were dead. If they still had weapons of the old designs, they would at least have some sort of weaponry.

When I expressed my concerns to her about it as she was teaching me, she herself began wondering the same thing. It makes no sense. Militarily, unless the technology proves completely useless or outdated, most military minds would never abandon such ideas outright. In all of military history, until something infinitely more advantage came around, the military would rarely abandon technologies, especially in the, well my, modern era. For example, bolt action rifles. They no longer served as any nation's main battle rifle but the basic technology was still the primary platform for most sniper rifles. Due to the fact that bolt-action platform largely providing the most stable and accurate fire compared to semi-automatic mechanisms.

"-see how you did." Hearing Shepard's voice knocks me from my thinking. I hear a whirring sound and see the target coming down the line towards us. Looking towards the target I can't help but grimace. The shots may have hit the target but, I repress a shudder, the grouping is just terrible. There's random groups of three shots here and there, but the spacing between them is so large that it can hardly be called a grouping. I can't blame her when Shepard snorts at my results. "It's," she pauses, searching for the word, "alright. We have a bit of time for you to practice." When I look at her I can see the apprehension in her face. Maybe this will make her decide to let me go. It would be a blessed relief, I wouldn't be a burden but...At the same time I want to stay on her crew, stay with her.

I sigh, knowing I'm going to regret this. "Shepard," She turns towards me, an inquisitive look on her face. "You got anything semi-automatic, or least burst-fire capable?"

She nods. "Yeah, I think we've got something." Making her way to one of the weapons lockers in the room, she pulls out a compacted rifle and throws it to me. Finding the activation stud, I press down on it. "It's an M-96 Mattock Heavy Assault rifle. It's a semi-automatic weapon like you asked. It has a 16 round capacity before needing a new clip. Sight is simpler compared to other weapons." As she's telling me of the weapon's history, how it was basically a refitted old style rifle, I can't help but admire this thing. This rifle has a decent weight to it. Has a nice feel to it too; much more solid, robust.

"Mind resetting the targets for me?"

She nods. "Sure." The target boards are reset and the holes filled by some sort of nano-tech, or something similar, before they go down the range, same distance. When I sight down the rifle, something feels, for lack of a better word, right. This weapon feels familiar, like seeing an old friend after so long. Strange thing is, there's no reason. I shrug it off. This time, when I pull the trigger, the recoil hits me, but I manage. Then I pull it again, and again, and again. I compensate for the recoil, allowing for a short an interval as I can to allow the weapon to return to previous position. My finger doesn't stop until all sixteen shots have been fired. Weapon empty, I engage the safety, eject the spent clip and relax my body. Again Shepard calls back the targets, "Let's see how you did this time." This time, I can't help but feel proud of my work. Tightly clustered targets, almost of all them center of mass, though a lucky shot did managed to imbed itself in the head. Doubt that would happen in real combat conditions, a headshot like that. When I look towards the Commander, I can tell even she's slightly impressed. "Nice job, nice grouping. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"Lots of practice at the range, whenever I went with my friends to fire one of our friend's collection, most of them went for high calibers or full-automatics. I always preferred semi-automatics. Always felt better in my hands. Accuracy over saturation."

"Not bad, not let's try out some other weapons."

**Citadel Station: Spectre Offices**

"Damn it Shepard, do you really hate me that much?" I ask her as I rub my shoulder.

"Oh you big baby, it wasn't that bad." She smirks at my pain.

"We've, or least I, have been shooting for several hours with a myriad of weapons and all of them with a good deal of recoil!" I growl out at her. "I can barely feel my shoulder!"

"Oh take it like a man." She moves ahead while waving at me to follow. "Now come on and let's go. You play nice, I might even treat you to something you like." She gives me a final grin before heading into the crowd. I follow so as not to be left behind. Nothing noteworthy as we head for the elevator, after my time earlier with Miranda, despite it been only a few hours, I think I've gotten used to the sight of the aliens. A few others had entered the firing range and left while we had been there. Saw more of Garrus's species, Turians they were called. A bunch of what looked like human females, but with tentacles or something similar for their scalps, Shepard called them Asari and one that looked like some sort of reptile with horns. "Amphibians, and they're called Salarians." Most of them kept to themselves when they entered, staying only for a short while before leaving again.

"So," I ask as we step into the elevator, which oddly, but thankfully is empty, "where are we going?"

Pressing on the holo panel, I can feel the elevator start to move, "Simple:" She has the largest grin on her face and I feel the dread that most men face when hearing that one word. "Shopping!"

As we ride the elevator down I realize something, "Wait, we're going in full armor?" Yeah, we still haven't changed since I was still wearing the full gear at the range. Same with Jane, that's the Commander's first name if anyone didn't realize.

"Of course we are. It's not like we're going shopping for clothes or anything of the like." She answered. "After all, you already got what you needed when you were out with Miranda right?" In a situation like this I do the smartest thing I can think of: I keep my mouth shut. At my silence, Shepard facepalmed. Seriously, facepalmed. "Damn it Miranda! I thought I told her-"

I swear, I don't even know why I'm going to say this. "In all honesty Commander, it's not her fault entirely. We both forgot the other reasons why we were here and also ran into some, distractions."

"What kind of 'distractions'?"

"The little Asari angel child tackling me thinking I'm her late-father kind."

"Wait," She gives me a shocked look "What?"

"Yeah, I know. Same reaction I had. According the kid's mother, I was a dead ringer for her late husband. Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say I was!" I lean against the walls of the elevator, looking out into the empty vacuum of space. "Look, if I really was the kid's father, I think, no I know, I would not be here right now but with them. And before you say maybe I should try and pass myself off as the guy's twin or something I-you know what just forget it. At any rate, there's no way I would have stayed with them." What I'm not telling her is that I doubt that I would be able to live the normal kind of life now. Not here at any rate. Back home yeah, it was easy. Never had anything to worry about barring my job and classes. But I still don't even know what I'm doing here.

She doesn't say anything for what felt like hours but I'm pretty sure was just a few minutes before she said "For what's it worth. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Not like you had anything to do with it." The elevator stops at several points, letting people on and off. A few times we got off and switched from elevators over to a skycar. Right now we're using the latter, traveling from one arm of the Citadel to another entirely. Neither of us have said much since the elevator and the silence is starting to get uncomfortable.

Maybe now would be a good opportunity to ask her. "Shep-Jane," I corrected. She turns to me, "Please don't assume that I am ungrateful or anything but, why do all this for me? The registration, the armor, why? Are you that certain that I will help you? And even if you are, are you sure that I would be best suited to helping you on the ground? And don't give me that look. I don't know if I can or even will help you, whether it is as support, logistics or as like you plan since you decide to kit me out, on the ground! And you are so damn certain that I will join you, so what I am asking is how?"

She doesn't answer me, just turning her head and looks toward the 'arm' that we were heading to. When we get off she still doesn't answer me and I have to say, it's starting to make me mad. One thing I hate is people trying to control my life. To direct me onto the paths they want me to walk. As the skycar lands and the doors open she moves to get out. Just before she does though I get my answer: "I'm not."

It takes a minute before I realize she left and I follow her out. For the most part thereafter, I just follow her lead. Purchasing whatever goods were needed. Right now she's trying to haggle with someone over something. I think it was armor components? At any rate I'm just watching faces in the crowd. Quite a lot of the Asari have facial tattoos. Some sort of fad or something? Or is it cultural. And they're not the only ones, quite a few of the Turians too. More so than not they have some sort of facial markings, some have the exact same ones, I guess families? Well hopefully Shepard is-"Ofh!" Who the hell just shouldered me? The rude bastard. Where the hell did he-Da Fuq? Ok, reality check, did I really just see that?

Rubbing my eyes to make sure it's not just those random spots you get in your eyes sometimes; I try to take another look at the guy who shouldered me, more specifically: the back of his shaved head. Is that a bar code? Before I can though, he's swallowed by the crowd. I didn't get a good enough look but I swear to whatever deity exists, that man looked just like Agent 47 from the Hitman series, specifically, from Absolution. Just what is going on here?

This is not right. First I'm mistaken for a dead man and next I'm seeing video game characters? I must be going nuts. Looking inside, Shepard is still haggling with the store owner. She won't mind if I go look for something to drink right?

**Twenty Minutes later**

Ok, it's official. I'm lost. I did manage to find something to drink. But now I don't know where I am. And on that note: I hate Virtual Intelligences. I mean, this 'Avina' or whatever this thing is, to me is pretty useless. It understands me to a degree, I don't have to speak like I'm talking to a moronic idiot. But could this thing be anymore vague? I mean, I ask for directions and I don't understand half of them!

Oh, this is so not-

"Hey! Get your hands off me!" What? I turn and some guy in uniform, looks like the same one the guy at the security desk when we first came here was wearing, is manhandling some girl. "I said get off!"

"Quiet down you bitch!" He twists her arm behind her back, hard enough to make her scream slightly! "You're coming with me!" What the fuck is going on here!

I run over to them, "Oi! Back off!" The guy's distracted enough so he stops putting pressure on the girl's arm but he still has a solid grip on it. Without letting go he turns towards me, "I said," I grab his arm, "let" I started to squeeze "her go." I keep squeezing until he actually does. Not letting go of his arm I bring him closer. "Piss the fuck off." I throw a straight punch at his face. With my armored hand, when my punch lands, it actually cuts his face and he hits the floor.

As he gets up, he starts yelling something about 'arresting me' and 'obstruction of justice'. I just tune him out. I call Bullshit. Probably just a daddy's boy with way too much more money than he deserves. Uniform is probably only cause they got tired of hearing this guy's whining.

I turn towards the girl. She must either be pissed or scared out of her mind now. "Hey are you-Whoa! Not human!" I stumble backwards in surprise and she-she steps back? Wait, she's not mad? Yeah she's not. In fact it's more like she's, scared. Why? Either way I got to try and salvage this. I take a step towards her. "Hey sorry about that, didn't meant to come off rude like that I-Aghghgh

A/N: Hey, sorry for low quality work but the next one will be better. That ending to the chapter though is how it is supposed to be. Sorry for the semi-cliffhanger but I needed it for the next chapter.

Also, the question is how many of you guys are okay with me doing a semi-crossover in my story in that I bring characters from other universes into the story? No one very powerful or anything such as the Master Chief or a jedi, but lesser well known or used character such as Artyom from Metro2033 or as it is possibly done here, Agent 47 from the Hitman series. Let me know either in the poll or as a review or PM. If message or review, let me know why. Realism is still going to be heavily done in the story, just mostly character reaction and action. No god powers or anything.


	7. Old Friends, New Faces

New Arrivals V2

A/N: At a certain point, there is a large segment with constantly switching perspectives. Sorry about that. It was just how it was written when me and friend, TheHeartUnknown here on and Liveandloveart on . Check her out if you like Mass Effect and fluff.

I'm posting this unbetaed and unedited. I haven't changed the section with constantly switching perspective yet. Trying to figure out best way to edit it. If anyone has any idea, please tell me.

Edit: My friend is also the reason why this chapter came out so late. Her father was hospitalized as we were writing this and now she's just gone from the internet. If you read this LALA, you already know what I'm going to say. For the readers, her family issues arose as we were writing and I have done my best to finish this chapter.

Please read and review. Tell me what you think.

Chapter 7

Old Friends, New Faces

Citadel Security: Holding Cells

Inside the temporary holding cells of Citadel Security, or C-Sec, a male Human was being 'escorted' to his cell. His charge: public intoxication and disturbing the peace. His name, as far as the C-Sec officer in charge of taking him to his cell, it didn't matter to Iria Landers. As far as she was concerned, she got dumped with the job of taking this dirtbag to sleep off the booze.

A female Drell, her skin was a particular beautiful color mixture of green and purple, a rare trait for her species, least her current one. It made her stand out on the Citadel, even more so considering the rarity of seeing Drells on the station, let alone working for C-Sec. Her unique skin color made her easier to distinguish, but it also made her life a living hell when it came to certain individuals. People like the one in front of her. "Hey babe, how's about you*hic* let out of these cuffs and we got back to my place?*hic*" Scowling she covered her hand in a biotic barrier before pushing the man forward.

"Come on move it." Her appearance, as much as she appreciated it, made her life a living hell. People were always constantly trying to flirt, or like the asshole in front of her, hit on her. Now, sometimes she found it endearing and sometimes even hilarious. More than once had she seen someone walk into a wall or something along those lines because they were too distracted staring at her. It only got on her nerves when people like him openly tried to get into her pants or something similar. It made her shudder in disgust.

"Oh al*hic*alright then, I see. Kinky then, so how's about we*hic* do it here?" He said, giving her a lecherous grin. *hic*"Come on, you can't say you never had a fantasy of doing in here." Looking to his left he grinned. "Hell, put me in there with her why don't ya?" Shaking her head in disgust, she looked towards the cell he was looking at.

Inside she saw a Quarian girl sitting a far away from the door as possible despite how she didn't need to as the cells were essentially windowed rooms with Mass Effect Barriers. These were not designed for long term holding. Next to her a Human, male, suited in full armor and passed out with his back towards the door. . "Hey, ignore this guy. I have to deal with people like him on a daily basis." The girl didn't respond just nodded before looking towards the unconscious person with her in the cell. "Who's your friend?"

This time she did respond. "He's not my friend. He's just…Oh Keelah it's my fault! He tried to help me and this happens! I don't even know his name!"

"Hey, it's alright. Just turn around so I can see his face. I got a good memory so maybe I can tell you who is." Nodding the girl turns him over so Iria can see and…

"No way."

"Hey come on girlie, if you're interested in him, then I bet I can make you-urk!" Before the guy knew it, he felt himself fly through the air and into an empty cell. Iria standing where she was, her biotics glowing.

"Step away from the door." She said as she was activating her omnitool she pressed the mass effect door shut down. "You, come and help me drag his fat ass."

"W-w-where are you taking him?"

"Just follow me. You're his friend right?" She smiled towards the Quarian girl. "Don't worry, I am too. Now come on."

**Unknown**

"Shepard, what the hell is going on!" I shout. "Someone fucking answer me!" Damn it I need a target. "Shepard!"

"We got some big monster thing here! We need-Agh!" I hear gunshots coming over the comms. Heavy caliber shots, sniper and shotgun. "Grunt! Get down now!" Wait what's going-fuck! I can see in towards the center of the colony the leftovers of an M-490 Blackstorm shot. "Damn it! That thing's still kicking get to-agh!"

"Commander!" Damn it I need a visual! Or least a bloody target! "Someone tell me what just happened!"

"It's Vakarian, the Commander's wounded! This damn thing isn't going down!" Shit shit, thermals, infared. Damn it! Whatever this thing, it's running cold. I can't see it! "Think you can give us a hand?"

"I can't see the thing! Lase the damn thing! Give me a target!"

"Working on it! We're, ah Spirits! Grunt move!" I can hear more gunshots and detonations coming from the center of the colony, where the massive defense cannon is. "Where's that damn medigel! Christoph! Get ready I'm tagging the target…now!" Through my scope, the outline of the, what is that abomination? It's like a massive four legged crab or something. Whatever!

"Everyone get your heads down I'm taking this down!" I pull the trigger and

**C-Sec Cell**

"HHUUUHAAAA!" *Cough cough* Wait, where am I? This isn't wherever that was. This is different. It's some sort of interrogation room. Was I dreaming then? But it felt…so…real… "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." No, no, no, no. Please, don't let it be. It's been years since the last one. Oh god if it is another one…

Wait, why am I strapped to a chair?

"Hey, over here." Huh, looking up, there's someone standing in the corner. "Finally awake eh."

Iria shifts her weight from one ball of the foot to the other as she resets herself against the cool concrete wall. She was watching, waiting for a movement, a stir in her victims eyes before leeching out from the darkness. For now she took the opportunity to gather her thoughts. It wasn't the first time she interrogated someone, but her fingers fidgeted against her biceps as she folded her arms over her chest. The dry air she inhaled caused her lips to chap and she did the best she could to resist from wetting them.

"Hey! What's going on here!" I yelled. I swear the universe hates me or something. "Come on! What'd I do?"

His sudden outburst made her jump, nearly causing her to curse under her breath, but thankful that the darkness hid this fact. She stepped towards him, making sure to make the heel of her boot click against the floor. "You know exactly why you're here," she retorted, a echoing to her voice as it carried through the box like room.

"I-whoa." I swear, before I thought Miranda Lawson was a Goddess, but this one. I swear I'm pretty sure I just heard my jaw hit the floor. "Uh.*Gulp*Hello. So uh...What's going on?" I don't know if it's my nervousness from being so close to some as beautiful as her or scared but I can feel the sweat start to bead."

"Uh, I'm not in that much trouble am I?"

"Ma'am."

"Have you ever seen a drell C-Sec officer before?" she didn't even wait for his response because she already knew the answer, "No? Well I wonder why. You must have done something horrible to drag me into this room to question you." She leaned in, her eyes folding into a fierce glare, with the overhead light glinting off her black eyes, nose and high cheekbones.

Before I didn't know if I was in awe or scared. But now I definitely know. She's like, Hell I don't know! I fe1like I'm in presence of a avenging angel or something. "Uh...*gulp*"

"Oh god, oh god, oh god."

I start muttering prayers, maybe karma will be nice to me…for once.

Iria's body sways back and forth before she has to return to her standing position, brining her gloved hand over her mouth. Her eyes crease in a smile as she starts to laugh.

Even as a bad a position I am in now. As she sways her body as she stands back up, I can't help but stare. I mean: I'm sorry but I'm a guy. Even I have my limits. I can't help but stare at her. Closing my eyes, I prepare for whatever she has planned and I hear, laughing? What?

Wait a minute...

Why does that sound familiar?

Iria brings her hand from her lips and places it onto the handle of her concealed pistol, her brows furrowing downward, her face mute of all emotion. It was rapid even for her to change her expressions like that but she was pleased she managed to pull it off, or at least she thought she did. She drew her thumb over the safety switch, "Click."

Click? Click! Is she going to shoot me!? "Oi oi! What are you doing?" I try to sound mad but I can't help the fact that my voice rises a few octaves.(Gets higher in pitch) "Come on! Please! Can't we talk about this?"

I start struggling with the chair but the thing doesn't give. "Come on, we can figure something out right?"

"Oi! Is anyone out there! Help!"

"Talk about this?" she repeated his words as it seems to guide her gun in one swift motion to his neck, resting the barrel beneath his chin. "Do you know how thick these walls are?" She momentarily raises her pistol, which shows itself to be a carnifix, and buries one bullet into the far wall. "And you're planning to bargain with me? I told you they don't bring me in here for anything, so you better start talking quickly or no one is going to remember who even walked in this room because no one will be walking out," she growled.

I'm pretty sure that this bodysuit is going to need a deep cleaning once I get back. She's too far away for me to try anything like a headbutt. Though looking at her face. That would probably make me more boned than I already am. If begging didn't work, and this is pretty stupid, better try to take another approach. "So...I assume you got a plan to hide the evidence than beauty eyes?"

Iria stood back up and walked behind the back of the reclined chair. "I'm not sure if you're completely stupid or a high roller to be saying such things to be after I just showed you the answer of those not cooperating. This situation all depends on you now." She rests the palms of her hands besides the sides of his head. "All you have to do is come clean about the incident and we'll work something out. A win-win situation right?" She swings her left palm and slaps it into the side of his head lightly, making sure he's getting the point of this conversation. She allows herself to melt back into the darkness and watches him from a distance as she paces around him. "Don't give me none of that 'I don't know what I did' Bull Crap either. Mutter one instance of something leading to that, and I walk out of this door without another sound. So think really hard."

I feel goosebumps sliver over my body as she pressed her hands against my head. I know what she said, about how I'm basically a dead man wa-well strapped to a chair. What I've got to lose. I turn my head to the general direction she disappeared to. "Well come on. You're a beautiful," I pause, unsure how to continue, "woman. You've probably dealt with more than a few people where you just had to do something. Maybe a pervert or three too. I mean, really. That guy can't be liked that much? He sounded like some sort of rich kid prick that got on the force because of daddy's money." I'm laying it on thick it here but damned if I do, damned if I don't probably. "So then, madam, or do I call you mistress? Think you can let me out of here?"

Iria brought her right hand up to her lips, resting her elbow in the palm of her other hand, while laying her thumb on her bottom lip. She swallowed down the urge to smile to his flattery. She honestly had no clue what situation he had been talking about but she didn't want to prematurely end her little game with him either. She brought her fingers to gently press against the center of her collar bone beneath her neck, and rested her back against the wall behind her. "So explain yourself, what exactly happened out there, in your point of view," she spoke coolly from the shadows with a rippling in her voice, a natural tone of a drell.

If this were an anime, cue the sweatdrop of relief. I really thought that would be get me slapped again but, hey it worked. "Well, to put it as simply as I can," adopting a rough caveman sounded voice I say, "Me see girl and jerk. Me stop jerk and hurt arm. He scream and yell. Me ignore." I almost pause to hear her but I get nothing so I switch back to my normal voice. "I got lost trying to find someplace to eat. Saw a girl getting harassed by this guy. I step in and pry him off. I turn around. Get knocked out. Next thing I know, I wake up here." Staring into the dark I ask. "So, that answers your question mistress?"

Iria rolls her eyes when he takes up that irritating primitive tone with her and waits for him to get serious. As she listens in on his story she does recall seeing Officer Brant come in with a pretty nice knick to the face. No one really cared for him. He was a drunk at best, always getting the crappiest shifts because he couldn't control himself, so it didn't come as a suprise what she was hearing. "How do you know he wasn't interrogating the girl. We've recently been tracking down a band of weapon smugglers whose key dealer was a young girl," she stated. But what she really was doing was recalling an old bust she made, and just twisting the facts around slightly to fit his story, and thanked her ability for storing memories.

Raising an eyebrow I ask, "Really? A weapons smuggling ring based around a little girl?" As plausible as it is, I really doubt that. "Well the reasons being is A) The girl was a blithering wreck when I pried the guy off her. I think she was about to break down right there." And she was. Thinking back, she was trembling and looked about ready to collapse. She really needs some help or something to calm down with. "And B), he was handling her like he was going to take her to an alley, not arrest her. I should've done worse than just punch him in the ugly thing he calls a face." My voice comes out as a snarl by the end of it. I may be a guy, and can see beauty where it is. But seeing people like him...

Wait a second...This seems...Oh hell no! "Oi! Is that Sonuvabitch here! You want a rematch come on than! Stop hiding behind your girlfriend and face me like a man!"

Iria laughs, "calm your hormones, I'm the only one in here." She takes a deep breath and exhales longingly. "The fact is you don't know women very much. We aren't always as innocent as you believe us to be," she says in a matter of fact kind of way.

Grrrr. SOBs too much of a coward, wait what did she say? I like to think that I DO know women. Least, a bit better than most. Maybe…Alright fine, even after so many years I still don't understand women that well...

Finally dropping her stoicism, she approached him and pressed his checks with her palms. "Well, come on then, dhong-seng! Still don't recognize me?" Letting go she gives him a slight pout she adds, "I'm hurt. After all the time we spent together."

"Wait, dhong-seng?" Dhong-seng, Korean for little brother or sibling. Guess some words don't translate properly. Probably cause it's one of the words with a few translations. Funny thing, I was an only child. Just who is this person. What the hell you calling me your little…brother…for…No. No. Fucking. Way." There was no way she was her. There are a few people I consider family not by blood. But the chances of that were so far off it's nowhere near possible. So many variables, there just was no way. But, still. "Nu-na? That you?" I barely feel the bindings keeping me strapped to the table release.

Stepping towards the near comatose man, she slaps his shoulder pauldron. "Come on, up you get." Grabbing him by the arms, with a strength beyond what her seemingly delicate body suggested, forcibly pulled him from the chair and onto his feet. "Little brother, I've got a story to tell you."

**Citadel Wards: Tierra Café**

Right now I'm in a situation that I never, in a million years, would have ever thought possible. I'm in a café on a space station in an alternate universe. I mean, it sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel or something. And the story I just heard makes this even more unbelievable.

"So," Taking another sip of my macchiato, "you've been here seven years then?"

"Six, going on seven." She has her own drink, though I can't tell what it is other than it looks like a smoothie and it's purple. Right now the two of us must make a pretty odd sight: me still in my full brand new armor and her in her C-Sec uniform. Not to mention she's, what she call herself again, oh yeah, a Drell. Which, from what she tells me, are a pretty rare sight on the Citadel. "I've had time to get used to everything." Time is right. Seven years would be enough to get used to things, and from what she told me, her story of how she got here is even more unbelievable than mine is.

She can't remember what had happened back home before she woke up here but she told me everything else that came after. Her new body had been brought into one of the many, and upper-tier to boot, hospitals on the Citadel, a few months before she had woken up. C-Sec had found her and for all their records, she was a modern 'jane doe'. When she woke up, she claimed amnesia and they bought it. Especially when she showed them she had no idea of anything around her and had bugged out at her new body. She changed her name a bit, which was why I didn't realize earlier. She had joined up C-Sec a year after she woke up, getting acclimated to everything and catching up with modern galactic times.

"Tell me again how did you end up here again? And in a different body to boot." I ask her, just to irritate her. It's a little game we had, seeing who could get on the other person's nerves faster. She usually won though.

She leans over the table and flicks me between the eyes. "I'm still angry about that." Sitting back down she continues, "I mean, how is that in any way fair? Though, I haven't had too much of a reason to hate this new body." When I raise an eyebrow, she answers, "Eidetic memory."

I grimace. "Ouch. I can see all the problems with that. Gives new meaning to the words, 'burned into your memory'."

"Yeah, saw more than a few things that I would rather forget." She shudders then her face just goes blank. Her jet black eyes staring straight ahead.

"Sis, you ok-"

"A pitch-black room, the scent of iron and copper thick in the air. Everyone stops, the floor wet beneath our feet." Suddenly she starts shaking her head before focusing back on me. "Sorry about that. I sometimes fall into old memories."

"You usually describe what you're seeing when you remember?"

"I guess so. You have any other questions?"

"Not really. Actually, do you know what happened to a Quarian girl? I think she might have been taken to C-Sec same time as I was."

"Yeah, I saw her. I let her go, the prick who arrested you two in the first place never even bothered to do any paperwork so there's no problems there." She raises a hand stopping me before I can say anything. "Yeah, really. Paperwork, I'm not kidding you." She finishes her drink and tosses it into the closest trash can. About fifteen meters or so away. "So, how have you been? And how did you get your hands on that armor anyway? I remember you saying you would never actually join the military back home."

I just realized, she hasn't been asking any questions about home. I would think after seven years, the first chance you get to learn about back home you would jump at it. I'll ask her later. For now though, "It's been alright. Only woke up here a few days ago on a ship somehow. As for the armor, it's a gift. My boss paid for-" My omnitool alert goes off, interrupting us. "Hold on, it's my boss." I open the call and find myself looking at Shepard. And she looks pissed. Probably not a good time to joke around. "Yes ma'am."

She rolls her eyes at my formality. "Hey. Just where the hell have you been!" Before I can answer she shakes her head. "Whatever. Just come me meet at the firing range at the Spectre offices. I've set it up so that you'll be allowed in without me. Just be here within twenty minutes. Now." With that she closes the link, which puts the omnitool into stand-by. Huh, well that was rude.

Looking back at sis I ask, "So, you know how to head to the Spectre offices? I'll tell you more about what's happened at home since you left. Least, once we figure out when you disappeared from home."

**Spectre Offices**

We didn't have much success in trying to figure out when she 'left' home and showed up here. Her memory's been shot to hell and back. So we've just been sharing stories, me on what's happened at home in the past seven years or so, and her life her for the past seven years. And it's been quite interesting.

When we arrive at the Spectre offices, I had to actually almost force her inside with me. I figured if I was allowed as a 'guest' of Shepard, sis would be fine too if I could get the commander to agree later. Better to ask forgiveness than permission sometimes.

Inside we found Shepard leaning against the wall, a box at her feet and, now I thought she would be pissed at me but instead she has the biggest grin on her face. And that's making me uneasy. I snap off a pseudo-salute, the best I could manage since I'm a civvie, not military. "Reporting as ordered ma'am."

She pushes herself off the wall. "Calm down I'm not too mad at you for disappearing on me like that. Least not anymore. Where did you go off to anyway?" Noticing Iria, she shifts her gaze, "and who's your friend?"

Sis answered her. "Iria, Iria Landers Commander Shepard. And I will say, it is an honor to meet you." She spares me a glance, no a glare. Promising me she'll get me back later for not telling her about Shepard earlier.

After her introduce herself, Shepard looks back at me. Smirking she says. "So, a Drell, C-Sec and a lady huh? Damn Mr. Lee, you got standards. Almost enough to make another girl feel inadequate." She winks at me and I can feel my face burn red and start coughing at the insinuation. Iria's face takes on a darker shade of green, and it's not like when some gets sick.

The implication alone is embarrassing enough but coupled with the fact that I consider Iria my sister back home? Panicking I immediately tell Shepard that she's my 'sister-in-all-but-blood' from back home. We give her a quick overview of Iria's story. When we finish, she says something that makes me blush even harder and want to hit her. "So she's your sister huh?" She smirks. "Kinky." She starts laughing her head off at our even more heated faces. Iria is trying to not hit her I think while I try to dissuade Shepard of that idea. When we finally manage to get her to calm down she's still smiling. "Sorry about that. It's just, you two made it so easy!" Holding Iria back from trying to maul the Commander for her joke, though I will admit I'm having a hard time not to let her go, Shepard opens up the box and tosses me one of the items inside.

Snatching it out of the air, it's just a simple canister with some sort of activation stud on top. "What's this?"

"I would think you would recognize it." Shepard answered. "After all you designed most of it."

Wait, I designed? I bring the thing closer to my face to better scrutinize it. The top and bottom are almost like caps, but the walls of it are, different. It's almost segmented around the entire canister. It's like it's made of stacked needles or- "No way. No way. Is this what I think it is?"

"If you're thinking that it's the Splicer, than yeah, it is."

"But how? The designs weren't even finished. Granted it only needed so much work but still."

"Jacob and EDI finished the designs and modified it for modern manufacturing processes. It's already been tested. And it is incredible."

"Wait, Cris, what is she talking about?" Iria asked. "What is that thing anyways?"

"This safe to test here Shepard?" This place doesn't exactly seem like the best place to test this thing… "And how the hell did you get this thing made anyways?"

"Just what are you two talking about?"

"Yeah it is, I just tried one before you guys showed up." Shepard answered. Pointing to the range, which I just noticed had a new transparent blue wall which wasn't here the last time. "Mass effect wall. Will allow objects of a lower velocity through, but blocks anything going at a potentially lethal velocity. As for how it was made, let's just say I called in a few favors."

"Will someone please tell me what is going on here?"

Pressing the activation stud on top of the canister, I throw it into the range. "Fire in the hole."

A few seconds later the 'Splicer' detonates. Instantly, thousands of barbs scatter in a spherical pattern. Tearing through everything in its path except for the mass effect wall. The targets that were hanging from the ceiling are utterly torn to pieces.

I start whooping in joy. Yeah, whooping. Seeing the carnage of a design I thought that I would be dust and ash from age before it was made. Damn. "Aw hell yeah! That was-OW!"

Sis just slapped me upside the head! "What was that for!"

"NEXT TIME TELL ME WHEN YOU TRY TO BLOW US UP!"

"Uh, right. Sorry."

She backs off. "Alright, now will you tell me what the hell that was?"

"Uh, right. I call it the 'Splicer'. Basically it's a really nasty anti-infantry grenade. The walls of it are made with overlapping Flechette barbs. Once the thing detonates, anything within range gets eviscerated, sliced. And this thing is really nasty beyond that but I'll tell you why later. As for now, can we go back to the ship so I can change? This armor is nice and all but I'm starting to sweat.

*Preview of much later chapter*

"You heard me. You have to realize like I have, if you somehow are subjected to Indoctirnation, all your resources will be lost to Humanity without you realizing it. You need a contingency plan."

"And how would your proposal provide said 'contigency' it seems more as my handing over a considerable fraction of my resources over to you rather than creating a failsafe."

"That's because you will be, but imagine it. An army that builds itself from the survivors of wars, decentralized to the extreme yet still structured. An army that can't not be destroyed for the fact that it is not a single structure. When the Reapers come, you are going to need an army that can fight in truly asymmetric warfare." Still unconvinced I keep going, "If you give me what I ask for, you are going to have two armadas armed and ready when the Reapers come. If one should fall, the other can pick up the slack."


	8. Purgatory and Shepard

New Arrivals V2

AN: Sorry this took me so long to get out there. But hey! This is 17k+ words!

Betaed, edited, and co-written by and with respectively, Jygglag. Introduction of his OC here too!

Please remember to review!

Notice: going to get more and more, graphic as the story goes on.

Chapter 8

"Happy endings for heroes are the stuff of fiction, not reality. For the every victory there is a price to be paid, and more often than not, it is the hero's to be paid."

-Unknown, only legible journal entry recovered from battlefields on Shanxi.

The Adventure Begins

"You sure you want to do this?" I tighten the sparring gloves, making them nice and taut.

"Yeah why not?" Shepard answered, doing the same to her own gear. "I want to see just how good you really are."

Right now the commander and I are in the cargo bay with an area cleared out in the center. It's been about three or so weeks since I woke up here on the Normandy. For the most part we've been going around picking grabbing raw materials. I know since I had to help load the thing into the ship's storage areas. The storage sections where the automated systems stock them is filled to capacity so a lot of it had just been sitting in the cargo bay. Shep's also picked up this old grizzled mercenary, who looks way past his prime. And I mean past his prime. Hell the guy looks like he should be in a wheelchair but damn if he doesn't give off a 'don't fuck me with' aura.

"So you ready?" She asked. She dragged me down here to test me hand-to-hand combat skills. I've been learning how to handle the armor and the new weapons over the past three weeks but nothing much else. And I've kept to myself for the most part. "You sure you want to wear that?" Gesturing to what I was wearing under the armor.

"Pretty much." She's making us both wear sparring gloves and shin guards. It's less about protecting ourselves and more making sure that we can't hurt the other person too much. Me, I'm wearing something similar to a gi, or martial arts uniform. She's wearing a pair of shorts and a sports bra. I'm at a disadvantage here since what I'm wearing is going to give her a lot of potential hand-holds to throw me with but hey. I shrug. "It's what makes sparring fun."

"Right, ready?"

"Ready."

Neither of us moves for a sec, waiting to see who goes first. I go first, throwing a feint kick towards her torso, when she moves to block it with her arm, I twist my leg and aim for her head. She slaps it away with her other arm before throwing an elbow strike at my throat. I throw myself backwards, damn near throwing myself off-balance to dodge it. What follows is move to counter-move to counters. I try several chain strikes from TKD(Tae-Kwon-Do), spinning hook, tornado then a roundhouse, using the momentum from the previous one to follow the next. It almost disorients me and doesn't even land once. Though, I really didn't' expect it too. She just stepped back avoiding each one before coming in close to deliver a torso strike. I barely parry it away with a mid-block. Can't say she has either. I've blocked a few but I've dodged the rest, while she's the reverse. Parrying everything I've sent at her and dodging what she couldn't.

She dives towards me and I try to grab her but she gets under my guard and kicks me in the back! "First blow to me." When I turn to face her, has the most not-so-innocent smile on her face with her tongue peeking out. I leap close and try and land a few punches but she just parries them before grabbing my wrists. She smirks at me. "Come on! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

Oh she did not just taunt me like that. That smirk of hers is still plastered clear as day on her face. "Alright then, you asked for it." I had been avoiding trying to grapple and use a takedown on her this entire time since that could actually hurt one of us. Now, I'm done playing nice.

I leap forward, using a tornado to get me closer and make sure she can't hit me at the same time. But I'm in too close to deliver another kick so she throws a punch. Just like I hoped for.

I grab her arm and with my other hand, grab underneath that arm and-OH SHIT! Before I can finish the takedown, she RIPS her arm out of my grip, throws herself forward, tackling me.

"AH!" Fuck! My head slammed against the floor of the deck when we land, before I can do anything I feel a hand at my throat.

"Yield?" When I get my vision back, Shepard's on top of me, ready to deliver a strike my head or throat.

"Hell no." Before she can deliver the punch, I roll, bringing her with me. When she threw herself forward and threw me down, on instinct I wrapped my legs around her so that she wouldn't be standing or least crouched over me. Now I'm on top, this time with one hand pinning one of her arms and the other pulled back to deliver a strike.

"Do you yield?"

"Nope." Uh oh, she has that smirk of hers again, I don't like-WHOA! She rolls us again, landing with her on top this time she hits me twice before asking if I yield.

"I yield." I answered, too exhausted to continue. She smiles at me and gets off.

"Another round?" She asks, stepping back to create a small distance between us.

"Sure, this time I won't hold back." I take back the beginning stance. "Ready?"

She nods. "Go!"

This time, instead of waiting for her to make the first move, I throw myself to forward, still in my stance. To me this is a risk, if I screw up, I lose my balance and open for an easy TD(takedown) or KD(knockdown) from just one hit. If I get it right, I can just slam a sidekick right into her mid-section and throw her back, any leftover momentum transferring also.

Shepard doesn't react for a split-second, probably surprised at how reckless this is compared to before. That split-second costs her and it connects. Stumbles slightly but doesn't lose her stance. Damn it. Didn't expect her to think that fast.

The moment it connected, she jumped backwards and up just slightly, letting her travel with it. How the hell that just happened considering she's probably lighter than my 90+ kilos and should have least lost her balance is, well. Damn.

"You ok?"

She just shakes it off. "I'm fine. Just surprised is all. Didn't expect you to charge in like that." She sends a kick, and I block it before I realize that it wasn't meant to hit me! She just needed a way to get closer!

Block, block, block! Wait, what is she? Crap.

"Ow." Again. I should have expected that. She came in close and just threw a series of punches and palm strikes before knocking me down with a leg sweep.

A shadow cast is over me as Jane stands over me. "Need a hand?" She holds her hand it; offering to pull me up.

I grab it. "Sure, just one thing." I stay on the floor.

"What?"

"Never said I yield did I?" I pull hard, grabbing her as she falls and rolling as she falls on me. Finishing with me on top and her beneath me, my arm across her neck. "Yield?" This time I make sure she can't roll us over, bracing my legs, as awkward as it may look, to make it, not impossible, but damn difficult and annoying. She struggles before giving up, knowing I have her pinned.

"I yield." This time, I get up and pull her up off the floor. "One more round." The way she says it leaves no question. I just nod and get back into position.

This time, we don't even say anything; just charging forward at each other, intent on taking the other down. I honestly can't remember what happened. Just only that for every three blows she dealt, I dealt back one but in equal force: for every three strikes she lands with her hands, I land a single kick. Or least tried. She dampened the blow from almost every single one by traveling with the kick instead of just taking it.

I used everything I knew and some that I never knew I did, just to try and keep up. And I like to think, I did hold out decently.

It all came down when Shepard executed another TD. Don't ask me what, all I know is, one moment I'm in close, one hand on her wrist, the other on her sports bra to try and pin her arm down and trip her to the floor. The next, I'm on my back, Shepard's sitting on me, hand at my throat, the other an inch away from slamming into it like a dagger. But that's not what frightens me. What scares me is the look her in eyes. They're almost incandescent with rage. "Jane? You alright?"

It takes almost a second before calms down and the fire leaves her eyes. The pressure on my throat lessens and she pulls her hands back. Before she can say anything that's when we start hearing the cheering. When we had come down here earlier, the cargo bay was empty. Now it looked like half of the people of this ship are down here. Just how long were we sparring? I can see items and credits being traded between several of them, one person gets my attention. "Sis? What are you doing down here?"

"Nothing much, just making some money and getting some onboard entertainment." She smiles, her hands tucking away more than a few credit chits into her pockets. "You going to get up anytime soon? Though, considering where you are, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

"What are you talking about?" When I try to get up, I can't, and quickly realize why. Shepard is still on top of me. There's a vacant look on her face as she sits on me. "Hey uh, Jane?" Her head whips towards me, faster than I expected, the blank look now totally gone. "You uh, mind getting off me? I feel the need for a shower." Her usual smirk returns.

Instead of getting off, she asks. "Oh, why? Don't you like me?" Making an emphasis of lower assets by putting her full weight on me.

I smile right back, "No, but I'd rather not start any rumors." She gets off me and offers me a hand. I take it and she pulls me up with more strength than I thought she had. I'm not that much taller than her, maybe by a few inches. I nod my thanks and whisper. "Unless you want to?"

I see her blush for a sec before she suppresses it and whispers back. "Meet me in my quarters later and we'll see what happens." Suppressing a shudder and my own blush and I calmly walk towards the elevator. When it closes, the last thing I see is the Commander, still in the cargo bay, talking with Iria before she glances at me and winks as the doors close. I need a cold shower.

**NAV2**

Standing outside Jane's door, I can't but help feel nervous. I mean this might be just a friendly conversation which I really it hope it is. Maybe I should just go and hide but that might just be worse, or I could, What am I doing? Blithering here like an idiot? Whatever happens happens, long as I don't end up dead I'll be happy.

I knock on the door hard, faintly hearing a 'come in'; I open the door and step inside. The first thing that catches my eye is the massive fish tank to my left. I've seen some personal aquariums but damn it's big. The fish inside are incredibly exotic, species I've never seen before and each a beautiful color. "So, liking the fish?" Turning around I find Jane lying down on a large 'L'-shape couch, dressed in her regular fatigues. "You want to feed them just hit the button over there." pointing to a green button to the edge of the aquarium. Pressing it, I see food dropping down to the top of the tank and the fish scrambling for it.

"So," sitting down on other side of the coach, "what did you call me up here for? I doubt it was just to introduce me to your fish?" Looking around the room it's pretty Spartan with the exception of a couple of, what I assume to be models of other ships in a glass cabinet around her desk and hamster cage on shelf. But there's not much around here to suggest a personal touch. It's so, bare.

"Do I need a reason to call people up to my cabin? Maybe I just want to get know my crew better." She gives me a coy smile. "Or maybe I feel like messing around with the scuttlebutt on the ship."

Cracking my own smile, "Well depending on how long I stay here you just might. So what did you want to know that you haven't already interrogated out of me already?"

She winces, "You still sore over that?" After the interrogation which I had argued my story about being from the 21st and not 22nd century, she had apologized right then and there. "Come on I said sorry already."

"I know, but I just like holding it over your head."

She gapes for a second before her body is covered in a biotic glow. "You ass!" She throws a biotic sphere from her hand.

It hits me and throws me off the couch and I roll onto the floor. "Ah! Jeeze alright, alright I'll stop ok!?"

"You better. You going to stop being a smartass?"

"Maybe. But in all seriousness, why did you ask me to come up here?"

"Well first I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened." When I quirk an eyebrow she explains, "I almost killed you down there, in the cargo bay. Had I realized a second later, I could have probably killed you." She snarls. "Damn I WOULD have killed you!"

"Whoa Shepard! Calm down!" I raise my hands in a placating manner. "No harm done alright? We've all been caught in the heat of moment when sparring. I've given and received more than a few injuries because I was just acting, not thinking and realizing." When she gives me a skecptical look I explain: "I have had busted and dislocated bones because my partner was a little too enthusiastic when they were sparring or practicing takedowns, and I've dealt my fair share too." And it's true too. Surprisingly enough to anyone who never took martial arts, and I mean real martial arts, as long as the injury happened because it was of someone's skills, it was actually approved by our master. "So, we cool?" She nods but I don't doubt she still hates herself somewhat for it. I don't blame her for what she almost did. Really I don't. After all, how can I if my own family did the same?

"Yeah, we're cool."

"Good, so. Why did you want me to come up here?"

"Just wanted to give you fair warning, you've been training right?" I nod, "Good because soon enough I'll be taking you into the field. I want to see what you can really do."

"Understood ma'am. Anything else?"

"Yeah, about your 'sister'…"

**NAV2**

"No, no no. Damn it that's not going to work." Since Shepard managed to get the M1-APe(Anti-PErsonal) 'Splicer' grenade design finished and manufactured. I've been trying to add more features to the design itself, giving it incendiary or, dare I try it, electrical payloads. "Damn it!" The simulation on screen ends with the digital character burning to death as he triggers the incendiary variant, "Not again." But it's easier said than done. This isn't going to be working out anytime soon.

Bah…forget it. I'll shelve the Splicer variants for now and get to work on the other designs. I shut down the machine and pull out my book and start flipping through it, though at this point after almost six, seven years of on and off work, it's more a heap of banded paper just itching to get scattered then an actual notebook. Linear accelerators, skipping over those. Incendiary items, nah. Oh wow, haven't looked at this one in a long while, body armor.

Never really made a name for the thing but I got pretty detailed about it when I first thought of the basic idea. A hard durable polymer-like material for the outer shell, a layer of ceramic plates inside a Kevlar or least Kevlar-type material net/pocket with some sort of shock/energy absorbing jell layer. And that's only the hard armor, not including a Kevlar-weave like the ones used in the Dragonskin armor I remember first hearing about in 2008 for the bodysuit underneath over a thermal bodysuit like the ones used for divers but with a cooling layer between the actual suit and the body to make it more comfortable during prolonged use. Never really got into it more after the first month or so I thought of the original idea, mainly because there was no way I could build it. Even a third of the materials I wanted in terms of strength and density alone didn't even exist.

But here, half the work is already done for me. My armor, which I have in the viewing deck, after more or less begging to keep it there, is already a large part of what I wanted. Even powered down and on a dummy it looks impressive. The dummy itself was something they surprisingly didn't have so I bought one before we left the Citadel, rather I asked for it. At any rate, the armor itself is impressive. When I put it on, it had a considerable amount of weight but most of the weight was from the power generator on the back and the shield generator nodes. The armor itself weighs quite a bit but not as much as you would think. Instead of metal like I thought it would be, the armor is mostly made of a relatively high-density and incredible strong synthetic material, yeah I know, high-density material for armor? Surprisingly the idea works here. Despite the low-density and weight of the materials, compared to even metal alloys, if what information I found on this stuff is right, the synthetic material is, gram for gram, several times stronger against almost every metal except those grade for weapons manufacture and starship-hulls and above. The bodysuit itself is an evolution of Kevlar, but the name itself, least among human-manufactures, stuck. Simplicity at its finest I guess.

So that's half my work done for me, but I'm going to need to talk to someone else who actually knows this stuff better than I do, least with the new technology, before I even think of trying anything. Not to mention I'm going to have do some serious redesigns to my own before I can even consider creating a full-blown blueprint. And not just for my armor. Though, all in all there are really only a few people on the Normandy I can talk about this with. Namely Jacob Taylor and the AI, seeing as they're the ones who finished the Splicer design.

A smile creeps across my face as I remember Jacob's and Garrus's, who just happened to be picking up his sniper rifle, reactions when I told them of the multi-tier area of effectiveness with the grenade being the center for the Splicer. The grenade itself is simple enough but because of the shrapnel being almost aerodynamic, and being flechettes, the Splicer has a ridiculous range. At the first tier, anyone there is just dead by concussive energy; anyone in the second tier is dead from the shrapnel impact. Anyone in the third tier will likely bleed out, and in the fourth tier are wounded but will survive and fifth tier is just minor scratches and splinters, after which the flechettes lose all effectiveness. If that wasn't enough, anyone in the fourth and fifth tier will be out of action for some time due to having to remove every piece of shrapnel unless they choose to go without treatment. Which is possible but damn if it wouldn't hurt like a bitch.

I was certain they were going to be sick right then and there. But then again, I did get a little graphic when I was explaining it. Probably shouldn't have done that.

What was even better was their reaction after I answered when they asked what possessed me to make something as devious as that. Told them the truth, I couldn't remember. The design itself was almost as old as the book I wrote it in. It had been a few years since I first thought of it, hell, I drew it up not long after the first time I worked on the armor design. At any rate, I probably should discuss this with Jacob soon, get some of these started. I probably should go-huh? A phone call? At this hour?

Opening up my omnitool to receive the call, a familiar, and apparently tired face, appears. "Cecelia? Isn't it your bedtime right now?" A smile, a real one, starts to stretch across my face. "And where's your mother?"

"Cecelia, what are you doing up? You've got school tomorrow." Velisha's face appeared next to Cecelia's. "And just who are you talking to-oh. Hello there Chris. Sorry about this, it's not late for you I hope?" Oh yeah, forgot to mention, I've kept in contact with Velisha and Cecelia since the Citadel. We've become decent friends, well as decent one can get with video communication only. In the vid, Cecelia slumped into her mother's arms, obviously it's well past her normal bedtime.

Shaking my head I answer, "It's alright Vel, it's not that late for me. I'm on the morning cycle right now. It's not like I could have said no to my favorite niece anyways right?" I've become a sort-of-uncle to Cecelia recently, playing it off as her father, Isaac's twin brother. "So how was this week?"

"It's been alright, we're getting by. This little one has been wanting to see her 'uncle' all week now." Vel answers. "She's also made something for you."

I let out a low chuckle, "Has she? Well Cecelia?" Hearing my voice, she suddenly has a burst of energy and sits up straight. "What did you make for me?" With a rushed, 'I'll get it' she scampers off, leaving me with Vel. "Well I'll see if I can get my captain to make a detour back to the Citadel maybe next week."

Turning to I guess make sure Cecelia didn't hurt herself for a sec, before turning back. "Where are you anyway?" When I tell her the Terminus, she paled slightly before recomposing herself. "By the Goddess, don't you do anything stupid Chris! You hear me!" By the time she ends her tirade, her face has gone a darker blue. I guess she realized what she just said because she suddenly fell backwards slightly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Goddess I, I'm sorry. That was,"

"It's alright Vel, just, what was that about?" In what time we've spoken with each other, Vel has always come off as a calm, collected and educated woman. For her to fly off the handle like that, it was unexpected to say the least. For now though, it was a question for later, "I'll ask you later, in the meantime, I think we forgotten about someone." Pointedly looking over her shoulder, she turned to find Cecelia looking towards her, almost fearfully. "Momma?" She had a tight grip on whatever she was holding.

Vel turned around, leaving the camera. Whatever she said, I couldn't hear, but she came back and sat Cecelia in her lap. "Well, Cec? Show him what you made him." Almost shyly, she held up a clay figure up to the camera. She peeks her head around it, "It's you…I wanted to make it look like you…"

"It's beautiful Cec. Thank you. When I come to the Citadel again, you're going to show me that ok?" She smiles and only nods before snuggling into her mother's embrace.

Vel smiles at her, "She made it in her biotics class. They were training the kids to use biotics with a softer touch. She got one of the better grades in the class."

"Little angel is turning into an artist huh?" We both laugh when we hear said angel mutter, 'Not little.' "I think it's time for her to be going to bed. Good night to you two."

"Same to you." Vel tapped her on the nose. "I think so too. Now come on Cec, say good night."

"Good night," She lets out the cutest yawn ever as Vel picks her up. "daddy."

Right now I'm grateful Vel left right now so she didn't see the look on my face. It's been a few weeks since our first meeting and I thought that she wouldn't call me that, but she did. The call ends as Vel leaves, the terminal shutting down automatically on her end.

Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue, nothing out of it. But still, no can't dwell on something like that. For now at least I should get something to eat. Grab everything I don't want to leave behind.

Armor boots; on. Omnitool, wrist. Keys, wait where are they…

Not again…

"Kasumi….do we really have to play this game again?" I hear giggling before a faint click and comfortable wait returns to the left of my hip.

"Sorry, you know me." Meet Kasumi Goto, the best and least known thief in the galaxy by her word. Jane had brought her onboard sometime before I had woken up onboard the first time. "You know, when that girl called you 'daddy' it was so cute. But the look on your face was priceless. Hmm, I should have taken a picture." Now I thought I was stealthy, being able to blend into the crowd, fade into the background. Simply being there and people continuing to behave as they normally would as though I wasn't there. You would be VERY surprised at what people will talk about when you don't exist as far as they're concerned. Some things are better off not known of. Kas though, she took that to a whole new level, she 'introduced' herself to me by pelting me pieces of food in the mess hall for about a week, during which I kept blaming Kenneth, an engineer aboard and Garrus until I threw a sandwich and by sheer luck hit Kasumi.

"Well, I hope it's not something that she's got in her head now. She doesn't need anything like that. She's just probably gotten used to living without her daddy; she doesn't need to be confused like that." She found about my conversations with Vel and Cecelia the first time it happened, apparently she likes hanging out in my room for some reason, she behaves like an annoying but playful little sister. Annoying to all ends and all but forcing me to introduce her as 'Auntie Kas'. I hold out my hand, "Can I get my keys back please?" Kasumi's also a kleptomaniac, meaning she has the literally uncontrollable urge to steal things. Sometimes she doesn't even realize she's doing it. She's taken something of everyone on the ship, though she prefers messing with me some reason. I think its cause I'm the only other Asian on board. She likes to constantly steal my D-link and everything attached to it.

Smiling she hangs them on her finger, "You mean these?" She sticks her tongue out at me, "You'll have to catch me first!" She dives over the couch, teasing me with the keys. What follows is something straight out of my childhood as I chase her around the room, diving over the couches and beds as I try to grab her while she nimbly leaps and climbs them, saying just out of my reach.

I make one final dive over the couch and Kasumi reacts too late, my arms wrapping around her before she can get away. She squeals as I pick her up and spin her around before I drop her on the couch, both of us breathing heavy. "May I have them back now?"

Pouting as she hands them over, she says, "That was fun….So you ever going to tell me the story behind that thing?" The 'story' she's asking about are the other things aside from my keys that are hanging on the D-link. A dummied .50 caliber BMG round, an old coin with a hole punched through it and a piece of a ruby slotted inside a metal square to name a few.

Shaking my head I answer, "No, cause there's not much of a story to tell. Just some tokens and gifts from friends, nothing interesting like a love story or anything."

"Aw, you got to tell me a story."

"Alright fine, one story." I hold out a single finger to emphasize. Holding out the items, "Pick."

Her hand hovers over the trinkets. Tapping some and picking up others slightly before dropping them, until she picks up the dummied .50 BMG round. "This one, it seems like it has an interesting story."

"Ah this one, it does have a bit of a story. Not much but it does." I hold the dummied round in my hand. The primer and gunpowder had been extracted and a polymer filled the center with a ring sticking out where the primer once was. "What drew your attention to this one?"

"It's a bullet, haven't seen one of those in a long time. Last time I saw one was when I was commissioned to steal a chain of those for a client. Nearly impossible to find those things now, got a pretty commission for the job too."

"Yeah well, no way I'll sell this thing no matter what. It's what set me on my path as an engineer in the first place." I take it off the ring and toss it to Kasumi. "It was given to me by a friend who's, or was I guess now, in the US Army." Most of the people onboard know of my story already, being from a different time and maybe reality altogether. "He was a captain last I checked, always joked he was going to be a Major soon." The memory brings a smile to my face, despite the danger that came with the job, he signed up for another tour right after his first finished after graduating West Point. He was a good friend despite that there was almost a four-five year age gap between us. "This round, is what saved his life. He was stationed somewhere in the Middle East at a random checkpoint. The checkpoint was assaulted by the last remnants of the Al-Qaeda in the region, it was one of their last ditch efforts. He told me he was forced to man a turret in one of the Humvees, firing at the insurgents he could see before it jammed. That, from what he told me, ended up saving his life. When he was trying to clear the jam, a sniper round passed where his head had been before and imbedded itself in wall. If he hadn't been trying to clear that jam, he would have been firing right when the sniper fired. He found the round later and saw that it had misfired. The primer wasn't made properly. A one in a million chance but it happened. He had it dummied as a reminder and later gave it to me as gift."

"Wow, he was a lucky guy then. What happened to him?"

"In more ways than, he was also the first of all my friends to get married, lucky SOB. Last I heard he told me he was being stationed on the Korean border. Not much of a story I know but it's the truth. Like I said, mundane."

"Hmm, maybe one day I'll share a story with you. Next one though, I want to hear the story behind that one." She pointed to a cylindrical hunk of metal.

"Maybe another time. You here for anything else except to bother me?"

"Aw? I can't visit my big brother?" She pouts and tilts her body trying to make herself look cute and innocent. I say try because it may have worked on most other people but not me. Giving her a flat look she gives up, "Oh fine, you're no fun. Want to help me pull some pranks?"

"Maybe later, I need another shower."

After another shower I find myself wandering the ship, actually, I'll head towards the mess, feeling a bit hungry. And maybe find someone to talk to. On the way I run into random people but aside from passing nods and a few hellos I mostly just pass them. Getting to the mess hall area, I find it's actually largely deserted except for a few people and the cook, Gardener. Funny thing is, he's both the cook and the custodian. Before you going thinking how unsanitary that is, hear this. I saw the man cleaning the bathrooms once, and he basically wore what I thought was a biohazard suit the entire time! The man takes his job seriously, sometimes too seriously. The man may look like a nice friendly person, and he is for the most part, but try and get in his kitchen, ho oh, watch out. I tried, emphases on tried, to get into the kitchen and cook. I swear I think he either has a sensor attached to the fridge or some kind of "Fridge sense". I shit you not, the moment I opened it, he was standing behind me in an apron with a ladle in his hand. I'm pretty sure I still have bruises when he chased out of the mess hall.

Walking up the kitchen I wave to him, "Hey Gardener, so what's on the menu today?"

"Hey there, trying a modified fettuccini recipe with asari and few salarian ingredients." He pointed to the sauce pot behind him, "Most people seemed to like it so far, now that I've finally got my hands on some quality ingredients instead of just rations."

Making a sour face I ask him, "You had to try and make a meal with military rations? We talking large homebase meals, FOBs or MREs?"

"Try old, forgotten surplus, lost-in-a-warehouse, MREs." He shudders at what's probably a bad memory. I barely repress the urge to gag myself. MREs are not that bad considering their purpose. But trying to make large scale meal with that? Trust me, I've tried it. NOT A GOOD IDEA.

"Seriously? Probably would have been a better idea to just hand out the MREs instead."

"I agree, but now that I've got some quality ingredients I can people's lives a little better." He gives me the evil eye, "You're not planning on coming into my kitchen again are you?"

Raising my hands in surrender I step back, "No no, I learned my lesson last time, but come on. You really won't let me try? I can cook." And I can. Figure it would be a life skill once I got to college. When I was eight. "Let me cook tomorrow's dinner, see what everyone thinks."

He keeps staring at me before he drops it, "Alright fine, I've almost run out of sauce already. You can try, but I'm sticking around to make sure you don't accidentally poison everyone."

"Trust me, I was about to ask you stay for that. Now can you tell me what's the closest thing in here to…"

**NAV2**

Shepard accepted the plate from Gardner with the delicious smelling sauce coated meat and vegetables that accompanied it. "Thanks Gardner, this smells incredibly." Taking a fork, she skewered one of the vegetables and dipped in sauce on the tray and ate it. Her eyes widen as the food hit her tongue, slowly chewing and swallowing before she looked back at her plate and quickly cut a piece of the meat and devoured it. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavor and the soft texture of the meat, trying to suppress a moan of satisfaction, and failing slightly as a slight whimper escaped her mouth. Quickly realizing what happened, she straightened herself but it was unneeded, around her, the others in mess hall had the same if not more comical expressions of bliss on their faces.

Turning back to Gardener, she sliced off another piece from her tray and all but devoured it. "My god Gardener this is just incredible! I-" She paused to skewer another three vegetables before devouring them, "Just wow. Really. I thought you were good before but this is just heavenly."

He smiles at Jane, "Wasn't me this time commander." He kept smiling as he served another tray to a different member of the crew.

Still devouring her own dish, she swallowed before asking, "Well who's the chef then?" She began 'cleaning' the last bits of sauce from the plate with the remaining vegetables and a piece of bread that had come with it. "My compliments to them. Hell I think I'll even 'kiss the cook'!"

Hear a set of doors open, he smirked, "Well better pucker up then young miss, cause here he comes now." He pointed towards the corner that led to Miranda's office. Chris stepping out of it backwards with an empty tray in his hand, yelling into the room.

"Look just try it alright? Damn, it's not like its poisoned or something!"

She hears someone, Miranda, yell back but can't make out the words.

"You're seriously anti-social you know that? I bring you dinner and you try and rip my head off! Damn it, this is why I hate being nice!" He pauses as more yelling comes from the room, and he flips the bird to Miranda inside. "Yeah yeah, fuck you too sweetheart." He comes back to the kitchen, giving a passing 'hello' before dropping the tray in the sink and cleaning whatever dishes are already there.

"Wait, him?"

"Yup, kid knows how to cook. Better than I did at his age. Didn't even know what half of what he used was but still turned out fine." Giving a devious smile he asked Shepard, "so, you going to do it?"

She shrugged before walking right up to Chris and before he could say anything, kissed him on the cheek. Surprisingly enough, he didn't blush like she had expected. Everything about him had her assume he would. Seemingly fallible to such a thing, instead he just smirked. "Well thanks for that Jane, but what's the occasion?" Dropping his voice so only she, and a nosy AI, heard, added, "Didn't think I was your type."

She smirked in return. "Just though I would kiss the cook who created this incredible meal for us tonite."

"So what, is this something every cook on the Normandy gets? Then what about Gardener?" There was a "Hey, yeah!" from the Gardener who had since taken a plate for himself and joined the others at the tables.

"Nope, just this one time. Haven't had something as good as this since my first time in one of the classier restaurants on the Citadel." Throwing her thumb towards Miranda's office, she asked. "So, what were you doing in her office? Sounds like you were being her personal waiter or something?"

"Nope, just being nice and bringing her dinner. I've seen most everyone else come down here already except for her. She's gone into what I call tunnel vision."

"Tunnel vision?"

"Yeah, as in she's so focused on her work she's forgetting everything else until someone reminds her. Had the same thing happen to me and people I know during school." Smiling, he starts shaking his head. "I remember, one time, me and few of my friends decide to get together for studies. Engineering mechanics: dynamics with a review of statics. Only thing we did for 12 hours was sit together, drink water and study. We even forgot to eat!"

He gives a small chuckle at the memory. "I think it took another of our friends trying to figure out what the hell happened to us before we got something to eat." Shaking off the last of water from cleaning the dishes, he dries himself off before grabbing a plate and loading it up. "In fact, I was about to bring one up to your office." Starting to chow down, he looked at Shepard. "So, what did you want ask me? It's written all over you face, you want to ask me something."

She crossed her arms. "Well first off, where did you learning to cook like this? Only other time I had something like this was at a high class restaurant."

Chris's fork stops half way to his mouth. "Uh. Wow. Thanks for the compliment Shepard but I didn't think it was that good. This is pretty decent by my standards yeah but, gourmet? I doubt it."

"Well then some pretty damn high standards."

"Not really. Guess I just got better or something. As for where I learned to cook? Experience and experimentation mostly. Started when I was around eight years old, got the idea in my head if I didn't know how to cook, I'd be eating take out for the rest of my life." He shrugs. "Guess I just got good."

Shepard quirked an eyebrow. "Experimentation? That doesn't sound good. And how does work anyway? I thought you had to be exact or something."

"Not really. Cooking is an art form, you're allowed to screw around and see what happens. Baking is a science. Mess around with that and your just asking for the stomach torture. As for how, I was basically trying to come up with recipes from pure scratch. Nothing to base them off really, just doing what I thought my taste good. Sometimes I worked out. Others…let's just say my stomach as yet to forgive me for them." He finished, grimacing.

Shepard laughed at the look on his face. "Alright I don't think I want to know. But still, this was incredible. Lyra must be proud."

He snorted. "Proud nothing, she devoured whatever I made, our friends too. Especially when it came to desserts." He shuddered. "I learned the hard way not to get between a woman and her desire for sweets."

"Come on, your sister can't have been that bad."

"Oh, it's not her I'm talking about. It was," He stopped, something else catching his attention. "Well, speak of the devil and she shall appear." Rounding the tables and heading towards them was Lyra, before Shepard could say something, Chris called out. "Hey sis! The commander wants to talk with you!"

She came over, "What's going on? And what's that smell? You been cooking again?"

"Yeah, the commander has a few things she wants to ask you. In the meantime," he picked up his plate with a grin, "I'm going over there to talk with the others. See ya." Leaving and ignoring the glare being sent at him by the now blushing commander. Once he was out of earshot he muttered, "You'll thank me for this later Jane."

He didn't realize the Commander would get her revenge in a way he didn't expect.

**NAV2**

**Normandy Briefing room**

One standard Earth-week since the event's in the kitchen.

"You want me to what!" No way, no way in all the nine levels of hell did she just ask me what I think she did. "Are you serious?"

"You heard me; I want you as part of the squad this time."

"Why, you know I don't have any combat experience. I know you told me that I would be coming with you as part of the deployment team but this is too soon!"

"That's exactly why. This will be your first, well, mission I guess you could call it." Waving her hand around she adds, "'sides, you don't have to worry too much about fighting. We're just going to pick someone up and heading out. If anything you'll get used to walking around with a full combat load at the very least. It's a milk run."

I sigh, knowing that there's no point in trying to argue against it. She probably knock me out and drag my ass with her biotics anyways if I refused. Might as well save myself the pain. "Alright then. So anything in particular I should do before hand?" Really hope Murphy's Law doesn't come into effect here.

She shrugged. "Grab your armor and head down to the armory and get your weapons. Talk with Jacob about your loadout. Once you're done, meet me at the airlock. We'll be docking with the prison ship soon." With that she turns and leaves the door. Gah. What a pain. Shepard just told me that we're going to pick up someone named 'Jack', apparently whoever they are, they're an incredible powerful biotic, by anyone's standards. And so is also on a prison ship parked in the middle of interstellar space, literally the middle of nowhere, and said prison is operated by a private military, or to be more accurate, mercenary company called the Blue Suns. She says this is just a simple pay and pick up, but I can't help but have a bad feeling about this.

**NAV2**

I grab and don my armor and head for the elevator. Entering the armory door I find myself Jacob Taylor working with a partial disassembled rifle with a half dozen more on a nearby table. Fun fact, more by coincidence than design, he's the only man onboard who obviously has African ancestry. Least far as I know, since I haven't seen anyone else. Getting his attention I call out to him. "Hey Jacob. Guess you've been told?" I place my helmet on one of the nearby tables.

He snaps a few pieces back onto the rifle and puts it down before turning to face me. "Hey yourself and yeah I have been. Got everything lined out for you, take what you want. Just remember to bring them back later ok?" Nodding I head over to the tables with every single weapon laid out. "If you want my suggestion: keep it simple. A rifle, a pistol and maybe one of the machine pistols or SMGs if you want." I nod, telling him I'm actually listening to what he says. Jacob's a pretty cool guy once you get to know him. He's got one hell of a past from what little he's told me. Not to mention he's become something of a mentor to me now. He's been teaching me about the current era's weaponry, everything from design and function, to history and maintence. Hell, I've started calling him teacher and master. Not to mention the respect I have for him for finishing the Splicer design, as little as it may have been.

I set my helmet on the table before taking a look at what he's put out on the table. It's quite a spread.: shotguns, snipers, assault rifles, pistols and machine-pistols/SMGs. Ignoring the shotguns and snipers entirely, I focus on the rifles. An M-96, M-8 and M-15 are all laid out on the table. I grab the M-96 Mattock rifle from the table and slot it to my back. Out of three types of rifles I've seen so far, this one is the one I like. The Avenger I don't like it. It feels strange holding it and uncontrollable on full-auto, even if going full-auto is something you never should do. And the Vindicator's burst fire feels limiting. The Mattock I like, it feels like an FN F2K rifle, grip and weight. I wouldn't be surprised if the designer actually just copied it and beefed it up to use mass-acceleartors instead of 5.56x45mm NATO. Before I grab a pistol though I hear Jacob tell me; "If you're going with the Mattock, grab both an M-9 Predator and M-4 Shuriken. If anything gets up-close and personal, the Mattock won't be of much help."

"If turns into that kind of CQC(Close-Quarters Combat) I'll use my hands." I grab my helmet, heading out the door. "I'll talk to later Jacob, want to discuss something with you. Peace."

Walking down the corridor of a spaceship is one thing, and having a wall wide window to the void is another. But a window that stretches an entire corridor? Have people not heard called 'Vacuum'? I swear, one stray bullet and this place will probably depressurize like a punctured O^2 canister.

Shepard's in front right now, with Garrus and Miranda directly behind her and I'm behind them. If this is supposed to be a simple pick-up, then why does everyone have a full-combat loadout? Maybe it's just normal for them. We're stopped by an armed pair wearing what looks like the filmiest piece of shit armor I've laid eyes on. One of them, a helmeted turian stepped forward. "No weapons allowed on-board. I'm sorry but we'll have to confiscate them."

Everyone pulls their guns as Shepard draws her, me only a second behind. "Unless you want another hole to breathe out of, I suggest you let us pass." Shepard added a glare at the Turian, who even with his helmet, stepped back.

Damn it, please stand down you idiot. No one needs to be perforated today.

A deep voice boomed, "Stand down men! Let them pass." Another turian walked up behind the pair. "It's Shepard."

"But sir-"

"Our facilities are more than adequate to handle four armed personnel. Let them pass." Shepard slotted her pistol back on her hip and we follow her example, personally though, I glad this didn't turn into a shootout. "Please, follow me." As Shepard follows him, the turian starts spouting off details of his 'operation' but I'm not really paying attention. What I am paying attention to are the guards on the station and the station itself.

The people are seriously armed for simple prison guards, even a private operations like this one. Assault rifles, snipers, shotguns, you would think they would just carry sidearms but no. That's not including this place is built more like a fortress than anything else. Hell, if you were intent on capturing this ship and not outright destroying it, you would be locked in a serious siege trying to take over.

Shepard's voice breaks the guy's advertising. "So it's an extortion racket. You're forcing people to pay for the criminals."

"If you wish to call it that then yes, we are. We do legitimately need the funds to keep the prisoners here, and we only know of their birth worlds in which to release them should we be unable to hold them. If you would, something needs my attention." Gesturing down the hall he says, "Just follow the path and you will eventually reach out-processing. Good day." With that he leaves us, heading down another corridor.

I hear Shepard thank him as he leaves before she heads the corridor he pointed out. This isn't right. I have to tell her this. I key the communications link in my helmet. "Commander."

She gives the barest of twitches, as her earpiece turned on. "What is it?"

"This isn't right. Sending us without an escort to pick up a prisoner? And one especially as dangerous as this one? Not to mention where are all the guards?"

Garrus's voice fills my helmet, "Yeah I noticed that too." He glances toward the window, "Not including the two at the front, I counted more than a few dozen Suns here. Far too many for a prison ship like this one. They got a small army here Shepard."

This time it's Miranda's voice. "I doubt they'll turn on us. Cerberus has offered a substantial sum for Jack, they won't jeopardize that."

"Still, he has a point. This isn't Alliance but most prisons' protocols for prisoner release requires an armed guard. Eyes up people, stay on your toes." With that she sets the comm. to standby, and picks up the pace.

She makes a brief stop to ask about an 'interrogation' but all I see is prisoner abuse. She dissuades them from taking it further but I'd say these guards need a taste of their own medicine. Poor bastard was bleeding from the mouth! Probably some internal bleeding too. That uneasy feeling I had earlier? It wasn't going away, in fact it was getting worse. As we enter what we were told was the out-processing area, I saw a few dog-robots, FENRIS mechs, being escorted by a few guards. Why would a place like this need combat-grade mechs for?

Well hopefully this is just my caution turns out to just be paranoia. "So, just who is this Jack anyways?"

"Well according to our files, the most powerful human biotic in existence and considering who we know, that's quite a feat." Miranda answered. Ever since the Citadel, and meeting with Cecelia, she's been a bit nicer, though she's still cold as all hell sometimes.

"Come on, let's grab her and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Shepard presses the button to open the cell door to reveal, an empty one?

The speakers squeal slightly before the warden started speaking. "Apologies Shepard but you're far too valuable to simply let go. Step into the cell and surrender."

Oh you miserable bastard, I fucking hate betrayers. "Go fuck yourself!" I shoot the nearest camera in the room, "you miserable prick!"

"Control your subordinate Shepard, and I won't have my men kill them."

"No I agree. Go fuck yourself, only way you'll be cashing in that bounty is over my dead body." She shoots the door controls on the cell, sealing it shut.

"So be it. Men, put them down."

"Everyone get to cover now!" Everyone starts sprinting for the desks in the room before flipping them over. Hope this shit can actually stop bullets! Garrus and I ended up right in front of the door while the commander and Miranda are opposite us to the left of the door.

"Mechs incoming!" I can hear them running towards us as I replace my pistol with my Mattock and disengage the safety. The moment the first one turns the corner; I don't hesitate and let off a triple-tap, creating a nice little cluster in the dog-robot's face. It tumbles forward from its own momentum, other FENRIS mechs run around or leap over it. Another mech is drilled through and through by Garrus's sniper rifle, Miranda shreds one with a biotic attack and Shepard just throws a biotic sphere that lifts them into the air before everyone drills holes in them.

"Mechs are down. Ah shit mercs on the way!" Ah fuck! This time, what comes around the corner are live enemies, not mechs. And they're armed. The moment they turn the corner they start firing away. Everyone ducks and someone the desk is actually absorbing the bullets, but from the dents in the thing, it's not going to hold for long.

"Take them down!" I lean over the overturned desk, sight in on the closest merc and, I can't do it. I can't pull the trigger. Taking down a mech is one thing, it's just a machine. But these are living targets, people. I-"SHIT!" Bullets pass where my head was not two seconds ago, Garrus just pulled me back on my armor, dragging me back down.

"Spirits what were you thinking! Are you trying to die?" He snarled at me before he stepped up and shot a round before ducking back down. The gunfire having started to die down.

"I can't. I can't do it."

"Do what?"

"I can't shoot them, the mechs were just mechs but these are people."

Instead of looking at me with shame or disgust, he just nodded. "I get it. It's not simple killing someone. But they don't know that. Just try and suppress them and you'll be fine." He slaps me on the shoulder and reloaded his rifle. "If it helps, just remember, every single person on this boat has already killed someone before, so most of these people probably deserve it."

Right right, they don't know I can't shoot them. Just need to scare them. Peeking over again, I see one guy, human, blasting away at us. I sight my rifle at center mass, just over his heart. His shields should stop my shots. I let off a triple tap, first shot slams his shield, second shot there's a snapping noise and blue sparks and a red spray follows the third shot before he slumps backwards, dead.

Oh god, I just killed a man, I. I don't feel anything from it. When I look back at the door, it's full of bodies and mech parts and when I look at the man I personally killed, I don't feel anything. I feel a hand on my shoulder and see Garrus. "I thought you said you couldn't kill him? Looked like you knew what you were doing to me."

Shaking my head I answer him, "I studied military doctrine as a hobby, aiming for center of mass was something that kept coming up in infantry drill texts. I didn't mean to kill him either; his shields should have been enough."

"It's alright. You going to be okay?" Shepard's already moved up, covering the entrance with Miranda on her right.

"Yeah, I will be. Come on let's go. I better get used to this, since I can expect more of this." Before he can say anything, I look at him, "I'm sure, let's go." We get moving but don't get far when we find Shepard trying to peak around the corner and pulls back to avoid a torrent of fire. "What's going on?"

"Fire team at the end of the hall, they brought a mobile barricade with them." Sure enough, looking through the transparent walls of the hallway, I can see just shy of a dozen guys erecting a wall with their buddies covering the corridor. "We try to get through now we're dead."

And she's right, only way past them is going right into the meat grinder. Unless…

I still have a few Splicers attached to my belt. Might as well field test this thing. "Commander," I pry one off my belt and toss it to her. "Time to beta test." I get a grim smile in return as she catches it before activating it and tossing it down the hall.

"Fire in the hole!"

Someone manages to scream "Grenade!" before it goes off with a thundering boom and everything falls silent. "Think that got them all?" I ask.

Shepard looked around the corner, I heard her swallow, "Yeah, I think we got them all." She moved around the corner, "Watch where you step."

What did she mean by that? Looking towards the others, they don't understand either. When we turn the corner though, the answer is obvious. Part of the hallway has been coated in blood. Red, blue, purple, just everywhere. One thing I never considered about the Splicer was use in close quarters. Every time I envisioned it, it was being used on a massive battlefield, something on the scale of the invasion of Normandy or the fight against the German Afrika Corps. Not like this.

The bodies have been sliced into pieces, the flechettes being far more effective then I would have thought. Resisting the urge to vomit, I really look at what my handiwork has done. Several of them have been turned into little more than shredded meat; their bodies so ripped apart it's an unrecognizable mass of blood and gore. Other bodies are sliced open, and scant few have small cuts where the flechettes tore through the armor and great jagged wounds where they exited. I don't think they even realized what happened to them. The few that didn't have helmets on and intact faces had surprise permanently etched on their faces, not fear or pain. I guess that's something. Surprised I haven't vomited yet; and I don't expect that to last long though. The others react differently, Shepard and Garrus ignore the carnage and just walk ahead, Miranda, she's showing no emotion on her face but I can tell it's a façade. She's far more rigid as she walks and trying to avoid the blood as she steps but that's a fool's errand. Each step we take just coats our boots in blood.

Alright, time to find this-what? Something's grabbing my leg! Looking down, I see a bloodied hand grabbing my ankle, following it to under a dead turian. I wave the others, "Commander, wait a sec, got a survivor." Pushing the ex-turian over, beneath him I find a human, male, his helmet obscuring his face but I can tell he's a dead man. Bloods leaking from beneath his helmet, him coughing up blood likely, and there's more than a dozen entry wounds.

He turns head to face me, his voice gargled, "H-h-help me…" He starts coughing and more blood leaks beneath the helmet. "Please…It hurts…" When I see a hand with an omni-tool out reach over my shoulder, I grab it. Following the arm, it's Shepard.

"Don't. "

Ripping her arm out of my grasp, she throws me back against the wall before tending to the man. "What the hell do you think you're doing! This man needs help. He might be a merc but damn it he's still a person!"

"When I said 'don't', its cause there would be no purpose to it. He's already dead. Too many wounds, he's bleeding out. Only thing we can do for him is a" I swallow, "mercy kill." I say it loud enough for everyone to hear me. My voice just cracks at the end barely, since I just put him off for dead.

"He's right Commander" I'm surprised, mainly cause it was Miranda who spoke, more so that she's supporting me. "The rate he's bleeding, there's nothing we can do. Best we can do is easing his passing."

"No, no, that can't be it, that can't be. There has to be something," She stops when Garrus place his hand on her shoulder, "Garrus? You can't think-"

He nods, "I've seen wounds better than his on Omega, I tried everything but…" he trails off. Standing back up and turning away. Covering the front again, Miranda gives the Commander a look before joining him.

I can see the indecision on her face, she may have been angered when she thought I had lied to her but I can tell that it was a rare thing that. She's a soldier, and can kill when she has to. But put her in a situation where she's essentially turned into an executioner and she can't. It's tearing apart inside. All of this happening in seconds but felt like hours. I can see her hand trembling as she reaches for her pistol. I grab it before she can. When she looks at me I shake my head. "I'll do it. It's my responsibility. This is something I'll have to get used to." Pushing her hand away, I draw my own. Looking down at the man whose life is ebbing away. The rate he's bleeding, it'll be another few minutes before he's gone. "I'm sorry." Before hesitation can set it, I aim at his heart and pull the trigger. Thunder cracks as the slug travels at supersonic before impacting his heart and severing his spine, killing him instantly. Given I had just personally killed a man, looking directly at him when I did, I feel; nothing. This isn't right. I need to get this sorted as soon as I can before it turns into something else.

We make our way down the corridor finding no one else until we hit a control room with a single technician inside. He's dead before the pistols full-deployed. The room itself looks over another chamber except this one has three massive mechs I've never seen before guarding it. Just who is this guy?

"So any ideas how to get her out?" Shepard stepped up to the only console in the room, reading the keys and their commands. "I don't like the idea of staying here any longer than we have to."

"That terminal there, it'll free Jack but it's rigged to open up all the other cell blocks along with it."

"It's the only way Shepard."

"Right, get ready, I'm doing this." With that she taps several commands. In the room with the mechs, a massive crane arm deploys itself from the ground, reaching over and gripping a block in the floor before rising and mist started escaping. Before long the rest of the cell appeared, manacles, mists and, "That's…Jack?" She looks barely older than I am! Hell she's probably younger! I can see her starting to wake up, braking free from the manacles. I can tell that much from here but she, wait , shit! The mechs! "Commander we need to-"

"RRAAARGH!" I barely see Jack wrapped in a biotic aura as she just charges forward at the mechs and,

"Whoa!" Did she just shake the station?!

"Come on! We got to find her!"

Taking a side corridor, we end up right below the room from before, in Jack's 'cell'. And the carnage is just unbeliablve. The massive mechs are just shattered, I can see fist-shaped dents, DENTS! In the armor! There's a frigging hole in the wall! "Just who or what the hell is she?"

"Don't know, we'll figure that out later."

Moving through the rest of station proved to be gruesome. Cutting down both prison guards and prisoners alike, each kill I was forced to make became easier and easier with each kill. Bodies were everywhere, some dead by the guards, and others killed with fists and improvised weapons. Over the intercom we can hear the warden screaming orders in an effort to restore orders, an automated system broadcasts messages of catastrophic failures across the ship.

It's not long before we end up in one of the cell blocks that we saw earlier from above, except this time everything is in a red hue from emergceny lighting, walls are coming down, there are fires and bodies everywhere and in the center there's one of those mechs from before, the massive ones cutting down anything it sees, guards and prisoners alike. It's moving towards us…

"EVERYONE GET TO COVER NOW!"

Move! I start scrambling for something, anything! Something solid to take cover behind, something's watching out for me cause I managed to slam into a barrier wall, a split-second later bullets fill the air where we were before. "God damn! What is that thing!" I peak over the barrier and "FUCK!" Almost just lost my head! And the bullets are still slamming into this thing!

"YMIR Heavy!" From somewhere on the bridge above I can hear Shepard screaming open fire, a cacophony of other weapons join the insanity as I hear the others open fire. Looking over, I can see round after round slamming into the massive tank mech. But it's shrugging it off like it's nothing! Damn it, this thing needs to go down or we're all screwed. This thing's got to have a weakness.

Torso and head is pointless. Critical sections, so they'll be heavily shielded, legs will be armored to handle all that weight. That leaves the arms, Wait! That's it! The arms!

"Everyone! Target's its arms! Aim for the joints if you can!"

"Why?!"

"Just do it!" I focus on the right shoulder joint and start firing with my Mattock, the others start focusing on the arms too. Soon enough the shields on the thing shatter in the display of blue sparks and our shots start hitting the YMIR proper. Sparks start flying as our rounds shattering when it hits its armor.

"Come on, come on break damn you, break!" My mattock starts wailing as the thermal system starts wailing from the spent clip. I slam the rifle to force a clip switch except it doesn't. "Damn it not now!" Reserves are exhausted and I can't waste time reloading! I draw my sidearm and start firing, everyone taking cover as the YMIR changes it's targeting on each one of us until, "Yes!" The right arm falls off the mech at the socket soon followed by the left at elbow. Defenseless everyone starts focusing fire on the torso, firing with abandon until its optics starts flaring between colors before shutting down and it collapses. "Whoo!"

"Everyone sound off!"

"Clear here Shepard. Got a new notch on my rifle now."

"Here, Commander."

"I'm here! Yeah!"

As Garrus and Miranda move on ahead, Shepard calls me over. "Hey, how'd you know about the arms? That they were its weak points?"

"Well it's kind of obvious actually."

"Obvious?" Shepard's eyebrow started twitching.

"Uh..yeah…? From my perspective at least. The torso and the head are obvious targets and possess the most critical components so they would have the strongest armor and shielding to protect them. The same with the legs, heavily armored and multiple redundancies to ensure that it could keep moving. The arms couldn't have that much armor plating since that was where its weapons were too. Too much armor and you risk it not being able to wield its weapons effectively, especially in that jointed configuration, same with shields since that's just more mass."

She just glares at me, before she just rolls her eyes and moves on. "Damnable smart-ass engineers."

**NA:V2**

Aside from a few more escaped prisoners armed with shivs, random objects and the occasional stolen weapon along with several overwhelmed guards, we easily make our way through the now thoroughly ruined ship. Corpses are everywhere but I manage to ignore them. Though some, were harder to ignore. The prisoners must have really held a grudge against these people. Some of the guards have had their faces carved, either into macabre designs or words and names. The few female guards we found were all still alive but…well I don't need or want to describe it but they were better off dead then how they were left.

Again, passing through a corridor, we entered another large open area not dissimiliar from the ones before except for one big difference. A massive platform in the corner with an bubble shield of sorts protecting it. Inside was a series of walls, turrets and Blue Suns mercenaries firing with abandon on everything and anything alive below.

"Well…this is a problem." Garrus said just as we saw an escaped prisoner accidentally run into the bunker's line of fire and be cut down.

"You think they'll let us through?" I ask, with obvious sarcasm. "Anyone else feels the crosshairs about yeh high?" I put my hand at round my temple.

Shepard smirked. "Maybe if we ask nicely? She started walking towards it, keeping very close to a few deployed low walls.

I snort. "What, we just say?" I raise my voice loud enough to be heard by the bunker, "Hello? It's your friendly neighbor SpecTRe, just trying to get thro-SHIT!" Everyone dives for whatever solid they can, I end up hiding beneath bridge endings. Thank whatever lies above these things are seriously thick. "So? Ask nicely huh?"

"Shepard!" It's the Warden's voice, and its coming from the bunker. "Why couldn't you have just surrendered? I could have been rich! And you would still be alive!" A whirring noise starts building up, close to the bunker and, to my right? Sure enough there's a tower rising from a block before it sends out this osciallating stream towards the bunker. Following it, I see it link with two others to form some kind of shield. "The Collectors would have paid me a fortune!"

"The Collectors!" I can feel the rage in her voice. "I thought you were just scum Kiril! Extorting planets and abuse of prisoners! But working with the damn Collectors!? Now your just a fucking traitor."

"Do you think I care?! I do the things civil governments don't have the guts to do! And if the Collectors are willing to pay so much, what do I care?"

"Take him down now!" That's our cue. Everyone rises from their cover, firing on the makeshift bunker, only to watch all our shots just bounce right off.

"You'll have to better than that, Shepard! You're not getting out of here alive!" The bunker is alight again with weapons fire. Everyone hunkers down behind cover. Where's everyone else now though?

C'mon you stupid helmet, give me the map already! This HUD is a piece of shit but I can't do anything about it. Period. I'm not a programmer. No, not armor status, I know it's fine now! Give me the map damn it! Finally, there it is.

"They wanted you alive Shepard, but I guess they'll just have to settle for your corpse instead."

Garrus is off there hiding behind a low wall. Miranda is off there, hiding behind one of the deployed vertical barricades; where its deployed like a spike. And Shepard, where is she?

On top of me? But that's-The bridge?! I slap the side of my helmet. "Shepard! What are you doing up there!?"

"I'm fine. Whatever they're using, it's pretty crappy quality. Nothing they have breached the barriers on this bridge yet." Bullshit, I heard her grunt when she said that. "Just figure out how to take that thing down."

"Fine then," I switch over to general comm. "Miranda, any ideas how to take down that bunker?"

"Take out the barrier generators first, that'll leave the bunker open to our weapons. But we still need to empty the bunker once we take them all down."

"Hey," It's Garrus's rough voice this time. "You still got any of those grenades from before?"

"Yeah, I got two of them. Why?"

"You're closest to the bunker. I've got a bead on one of the towers. Lawson, think you can hit one of them with an Overload?"

"I can, but what about the third one?"

"I've got that one." Shepard answered. "Just get ready to throw that Splicer when it's down."

"Copy that. On who's go?"

"Mine." It's Vakarian again. "On 3. 1." I pull the grenade from my belt and hold it, replacing the Mattock with a Shuriken Mp. "2." Get ready to run. "1. Now! Take them out!"

I would like to be able to say I did something really heroic and awesome, running up to the bunker and killing everything single handed. But the reality is, the moment I tried to step out from cover, bullets filled the area. "Fuck that man! No way! No way!" This not a game, not a dream. I go out there, I'm dead. Dead. There's no coming back from that. "No way am I going out there! That's guaranteed suicide!"

"Damn it, the generators are self-repairing!"

Peeking out, sure enough, the towers have redeployed and the barrier bubble is back. "Damn it, Chris! Just get out there!"

"Fuck that! I'm not getting out there!"

"You do it or I'll fry your ass right here and now!" This time its Miranda that yells, I can see her body glowing blue as her biotics charge up.

"Enough!" Shepard's yell is deafening, I think even the dead heard her. "We need to take that bastard down. Once we take out those towers, get up there and toss a Splicer. Either way, they're dead."

"Fine! Just make sure no one is in my way!"

"Just get up there!"

I bolt, heading dead straight for the makeshift bunker, into the defilade directly beneath it. Vaulting over the low walls and ducking behind the pillars as I make my way up. Bullets pass over me but by some grace only a few are aimed at me and my shields take them. I hear static discharges from the towers, but I ignore them. The bubble around the bunker dissipates. I climb the incline up to the level where the bunker is, sprinting towards it, the idiots inside never seeing me since I can hear all the bullets slamming into the bunker walls around me.

"Fire in the hole!" I slide into the wall directly beneath it as I chuck the Splicer into the ports.

I barely hear the screams start before the Splicer detonates. I see blood and several flechettes fly out from the open ports of the bunker. There's screaming from inside and nothing else coming from the bunker. "I think we're clear." And I'm pretty sure we are. If what we saw in the hallway earlier was any sign, the only thing that would have been worse to the people inside would have been if someone shoved a flamethrower up their asses. I climb up, looking through the ports and inside. Urk. 'I think I'm going to be sick.' The walls are covered in blood and gore, and human too, it the color is anything to go bye. Someone must have jumped on top of it, for all the good it did. "Yeah. We're clear, come on up. If you can stomach this." I mutter the last part but they still hear me, seeing as they, especially Miranda make it a point to give the bunker as wide a berth as possible.

Looking back inside, the majority of corpses are torn to shreds but a good number are intact. Bunker held a lot more people than I thought. Of course the most intact ones are the Warden and those closest to him. Would like to follow rule 17, 'Double tap, always make sure they're dead', but he's not worth the ammo. "I'm coming back down."

I leap down from the platform, the others are picking off ammo from corpses, Shepard just tossed half a rifle over her shoulder, holding something from the inner components in her hand, I guess it's a modification she wanted. I recognize it vaguely as part of the firing mechanism. She doesn't look over her shoulder as she asks, "You alright? Got any new holes or any unwanted haircuts?" You can feel the sarcasm in her voice. Probably cause how I didn't want to get SHOT.

"Nope, a few bruises maybe. Why?" Drawing my pistol I ask, "You want a haircut?" Seeing as I have a helmet on and she doesn't.

"Maybe, think you're a good enough shot?" She just grins back at me.

"Is this really the time for cracking jokes?" Garrus asked, covering the doorway with his rifle. "I'm always up for showing up who's the better shot but I like to do it on a ship that's not on fire and not about to blow up."

**NAV2**

Inside the bunker, one of the 'corpses' twitched underneath another. The twitch turned into full-blown consciousness. "Thrice-damned Barefaced bastards." Warden Kuril snarled as he pushed the dead body of his subordinate off him. Rising to his feet, he looked for his personal M-76 Revenant LMG, when he found it, his anger only rose. The once beautiful and powerful weapon now little more than a worthless hunk of metal and synthetic materials. The flechettes had torn into the weapon, embedding itself all over the weapon, others tearing through the casing and destroying the inner components.

His head snapped towards the bunker port as he heard Shepard's voice. "-think you're a good enough shot?"

Grabbing a still intact Vindicator rifle, he started heading for the bunker's opening, itself wide enough for him to crawl out from. "I'll get you. I don't care what happens long as you die bitch." He muttered as his foot was dragging across the floor as he moved, uncaring about anything else except what was in front of him.

On the other side of the cellblock, where Shepard and the others had come through before, a single batarian, dressed in prison rags came through. His clothes were bloodied, and drenched in sweat from running through the cellblocks. He had been fortunate enough to be in one of those closest to Jack's cryo-cell when she had broke out.

Busting out his cell was easy enough, with all the damage Jack had done, the controls locking his and hundreds of other cells shorted out, ...leaving it a matter of being able to actually survive the fall from his cell, which was a few floors above the ground.. That and not being slaughtered by the guards or other prisoners. He wasn't stupid enough to try and get out immediately. Letting the fools and the crazies leave first and fight the guards. Biding his time as he watched the two groups slaughter each other. You don't get to live long as an enemy of the Hegemony by being an idiot.

Once calm had settled, he had opened the door and dropped to the floor, rolling to absorb the energy from the fall. Following Jack's quote unquote 'path' was the next step, knowing that following her would be the fastest path to an exit. He avoided grabbing any weapons as the only things left were shivs and the like. Any working gun had already been taken and any left behind were useless.

Following the path he found more and more dead bodies, some killed by prisoners with makeshift weapons alongside dead prisoners. What caught his attention was when he spotted guards killed by gunfire and a destroyed YMIR. He slowed down after that, anyone good enough with a rifle to kill that many guards and a YMIR warranted caution lest he receive a bullet in his brain pan for his 'fashion choice'.

As he entered another cellblock, he stopped. Seeing a makeshift bunker on top of a raised platform along with a trio of destroyed biotic barrier generators. Upon reaching the bunker, he almost gaped at the carnage inside before leaping over and searching for any salvageable weapons. He grabbed the discarded Revenant, knowing despite all the damage it had taken, to which most people would give it up for scrap, he knew it could be repaired. Despite his urge to take it, he dropped it onto the floor, knowing that it would only slow him down. Instead grabbing an Avenger off the floor and scrounging up thermal clips when he noticed drag marks in the blood. Following it, he saw it go over the bunker's entrance and outside it. Doing a quick search of the faces of the intact bodies, searching for Kuril's face. Exiting the bunker, he saw the warden trying to line up a shot, leaning against a deployed barricade for support. Following Kuril's sightline, he spotted the targets he was aiming at: a group of four standing at the exit that would lead back to the airlocks.

Snapping up the Avenger, he sighted in on the warden, taking a half-second to properly line up on the Warden's back before pulling the trigger. The gunfire cracked like thunder in the cellblock as the hyper-accelerated rounds left the barrel and slammed into Kuril's unshielded back. Mushrooming on impact and tumbling inside his body, utterly obliterating his insides. The turian was dead before he hit the floor.

Lowering the weapon he saw the four aiming directly at him. Knowing he had seconds to act, he dropped the rifle and placed his hands over his head: the universal sign of surrender. It would save his life as the one of the armored humans barked out at the other three to stand down the moment he had done so.

**NAV2**

The gunshots scared the crap out of everyone, or me at least. I turn around, fumbling to draw my rifle at the same time, behind me I hear the others' guns expanding as they took aim. Directly behind us was Kuril, dead and slumped over a low-wall barricade, a rifle in his hands. But that's not where the gunfire came from. It came from above, by the bunker.

Standing up near the bunker, was a prisoner, least if his clothes were any sign. But that's all I knew. The guy sure as hell wasn't human. His skin His skin was an odd mixture of dark yellow and brown, unlike that of a human skin tone., but if that wasn't enough, the guy had four eyes and, well, his head was bigger than any human.

Even more surprising was that he just dropped the rifle the moment we had sighted him, throwing up his hands in surrender. "What the hell is that thing?"

"It's a batarian, their race is known for being thugs, and most of them are slavers, pirates and mercenaries." Garrus supplied. "If he's in here, it's probably for a good reason."

"I've killed enough of them to last me a lifetime, one more won't hurt." I can see in my mind's eye Shepard's finger start to pull back on the trigger.

"Hold it Commander; I don't think he's hostile." I hear three scoffs from behind me.

"He's a batarian, you can't trust any of them as far as you can throw one." She snarled. "Far as I'm concerned, he's better off dead."

"You really going to kill the guy who probably saved our lives?" I ask, "or at the very least one of us?" When I get questioning looks by the three of them, I point to the dead turian. "I'm pretty sure if he wouldn't be dead if that guy wasn't on our side."

As if to prove me right we can hear him yelling, "I'M FRIENDLY DON'T SHOOT!" coming down from the bunker his hands still raised in the air, the only thing on him his clothes and a few thermal clips. By the time he reaches us, I've replaced my Mattock on my back but the others still have their guns pointed in his general direction. "Thanks for not shooting me on sight. Glad you didn't shoot me on account of this ugly thing." He gestured to this clothes, "or that thing." This time gesturing at the dead warden. He still held his hands in the air.

"Why did you help us?" Shepard asked, the hostility clear in her voice.

"Well for one thing, I've been trying to figure a way to kill that son-of-a-bitch since I got sent here. 'They' paid him to make sure I 'enjoyed' my stay here." The anger on his face was plain to see at the mentioning of 'them'.

"They?"

"The Batarian Hegemony." He replied with a tone of deep hatred.

"The Hegemony?" Garrus asked, "Why would they-" Another explosion rocked the station, throwing us off-balance.

Everyone shared a look. "Look, I'll narrate my life story to you later. Just help me get off this ship!"

"And why should we?"

"Help me, and you'll help bring the Hegemony come crashing down for the first time in centuries." Despite how unbelievable it sound, the conviction with how he said it, it sounded believable. But Shepard wouldn't budge.

"No way, the moment we'll let you, you're going to try and kill us."

Another explosion rocked the ship. "I have no motivation to kill you. As far as I'm concerned, you did the galaxy a favor by tearing this place apart." I can tell the commander is really fighting this right now. Fighting the urge to just shoot the guy, but there's something about him…

"Commander, I think we should bring this guy along with us." Her head snaps in my direction, I barely hear the whispered, "what?" as though I had betrayed her. And that hurts. "There's something about this guy Commander. I think we should hear him out. Something about him seems off compared to everyone else in this place."

"Off?"

"I can't explain it, but trust me." When they give me a flat look that screams, 'Are you joking right now?' I retort, "If he wanted us dead, he could have just shot us and not the warden."

If looks could kill, I doubt there would be anything left of me after the three glares sent my way. "Fine but he's your responsibility! Now move out!"

The others march on ahead, following Jack's path of death and destruction while I wait for our, rather 'my' newest buddy to walk up to me. Still keeping my hand on my pistol I ask him, "Am I going to regret doing this?" He tries to look me in the eye but it's not easy trying to that through a polarized visor. "Or should I just shoot you here now and save us the trouble?"

"You won't. Thanks for that. Most humans wouldn't trust a batarian, no matter the circumstances." He nods slightly in thanks.

"I'm more open-minded than most." I pull off the pistol. "Look I'll trust you for now, just don't make me regret this." I toss him the pistol, and he grabs it before getting a proper grip on it and pulling back the slide like he's used one a thousand times before. "What's your name anyway?"

"Eram Rashaak." He loads a thermal clip into the pistol. "And you?"

"Just call me Chris for now." I throw a look over my shoulder. "Come on, let's go and see if they caught up with our resident WMD."

**NAV2**

Coming up on the group, I hear the tail end of what Garrus said. "-her up and drag her back."

"Try it and I'll fucking fry your ass!" Whoa. Someone's got their panties in a twist. "You think I'm stupid or something? Your Cerberus, no fucking way am I following you."

"Wow. Someone must really want to die tonight then." Everyone's attention is now on me as heads snap around. "Uh…did I say that out loud?"

"How about you? Maybe we should see how your guts look painted on the fucking walls!" I see Jack's body wrapped in a biotic glow but unlike Miranda's or even the Commander's, by comparison were calm clouds, Jack's are like a maelstrom.

"Enough!" This time it's Shepard who screams. "Look! This station is falling apart at the seams and you're arguing against your only ticket off this fucking deathtrap. Now if you want to stay then be my guest! Otherwise you can come with me and sort this out later! I personally don't feel like dying in the middle of nowhere tonight! Again!"

Jack and Shepard glare at each other, and my hand reaches for my rifle. "Fine, but this isn't over." Her biotics die down, "But I want every single file Cerberus has on me. Everything."

Miranda balks. "What? Those are classified files. Commander you can't-" Shepard holds up a hand to quiet her.

"Oh and it makes the cheerleader upset, even better." Jack smirks at Miranda's discomfort. "We have a deal?"

"It's a deal. Once we're onboard I'll give you full-access to everything you need. Agreed?" She looks pointedly at Miranda.

I can tell she's trying not to pout when she answers. "Yes Commander."

**NAV2**

Normandy SR2: Briefing Room

Inside a batarian, a bat-shit crazy woman, a cold-hearted bitch, and one scary-ass woman are standing around a table. Miranda was pacing in front of Jack, "My name is Miranda, Second-in-Command of the Normandy. Jack, I want to be clear, on this ship, we follow orders. So I expect you to listen to what Shepard or I have to say, understood?"

"Whatever cheerleader. Hey Shepard, keep your pet on a leash. Just remember to keep up your end of the bargain." She gives her a feral grin. "Otherwise I might want to try and break my record for how fast I can destroy a frigate."

"You'll get your files. I'll have a terminal set up wherever you hole up. That good enough?"

"As long as I get what I want, everyone is going to be happy. Well, except for the Cerberus whore. But that's a bonus to me." She pushed off the railing she was leaning against. "You want me, I'll be holed up somewhere below deck." She roughly shoulder-checked Eram as she left. "Move it four-eyes."

With that, three people were left in the room. "Right, and that leaves us with you. Now talk." Shepard demanded, all niceties throw out the window. "Who are you? And what did you mean before about the Hegemony putting you on Purgatory?"

"First off, name's Eram Rashaak; Head of Foreign Affairs of the Batarian Socialist Republic."

"Republic? There is no Republic, it's just power-hungry despots and slavers." Shepard said, still unconvinced of their "guest's" intentions.

Eram started rubbing the back of his neck. "That was the response I expected from someone outside the Terminus."

"Wait, back up. Start from the beginning. What is the Batarian…" Miranda started to ask before she was cut off by Eram.

"The Batarian Socialist Republic. I had hoped you had heard of it but apparently that's not the case. Contrary to popular belief, not all batarians support the Hegemony. Some of us want to destroy it outright."

"How come we've never heard of you?"

"The Hegemony isn't going to let news of rebellion and civil war to become widely spread, though I am a bit surprised they suppressed news of it so thoroughly. I expected there at least to be some information or least some indication of internal conflict, but I doubt most people in Citadel space would be willing to help or even care about what was happening in batarian space."

"So why were you the Terminus systems?"

"Well, to be quite honest, we're getting kind of desperate. The rebellion hasn't been doing so well against the full might of the Hegemony military. Since we weren't getting any kind of aid, I had hoped to try and recruit some to our cause."

"And how did you end up on Purgatory?"

"Things were actually going quite well with it too but…turns out the Hegemony doesn't like rebellions too much. I was on Omega when they found me. Killed my closest friends who were with me but kept me alive." He snorted. "Probably realized killing me was as good as shooting themselves in the gut. My death would have probably inspired gods know how many others to try and take my place."

"How's that? You're just the diplomat aren't you?" Shepard questioned.

"Not necessarily." Miranda answered. "Even if he's not the head of this 'Revolution', he's still a well-known face. His death would spur more civilian discontent within the Hegemony."

"Yeah pretty much, and I've made myself well known in the independent colonies too."

"So, what, they kept you there as a political prisoner?"

"More like a martyr they couldn't afford to kill."

"Alright, say I believe you; what are your plans now?"

"Same as before, try to get support and resources for the rebellion. Try to get back in contact those that have already promised to support the cause. Once I get to Omega that should be easy enough."

"And why should we do that?"

"Cause if you do, the Batarian Socialist Republic will be in debt to you. Not to mention the Batarian Hegemony will cease to exist and our people will finally prosper again."

"What would this debt entail?"

"You do this, and my people succeed in toppling the Hegemony, should you ever need assistance, the Batarian Socialist Republic will answer. In whatever capacity we can afford." Eram stood at attention in an effort to show the conviction behind his words. Shepard just looked at him, eyes trailing up and down his body, searching for anything that indicated deceit before her body slumped.

"Alright, I'll say this much, you believe what you're saying." Waving her hand she added, "Not saying I do but it's enough for me to make a detour to Omega. You plan on leaving after we get there?"

"Actually Commander, I was wondering if I would be allowed to stay." When she quirked an eyebrow he elaborated, "There's only so much I can do on my own, and traveling with you may help me get the support I need faster. But I won't be staying for long before you ask. Just long enough to find others who are willing to help. After which, once we return to Omega again, I'll take my leave. I will need to return to my people soon."

"Alright, you can bunk down in the cargo bay. Not a lot of people are comfortable being around a batarian so much."

"Understandable. I hope to change how we are seen, some day."

**NAV2**

"Blergh! Oh god that was nasty." For those wondering, right now I'm praying to the porcelain god. "Urgh!" I was fine until we got back onboard but then the realization of everything I did on that ship, what my Splicer did, the guy I personally executed as a 'mercy kill'. Guess I just pushed all to the back of my mind until it was over.

I've never killed before. Studying military tactics is one thing, actually using them is another. Knowing someone died by your hands…It…oh god. "Blurgh!" I think that's the last of it. Anything else at this point is just dry heaves. I manage to stand up, albeit on shaky legs. I need to get back to bunk, i need to sleep.

Please let no one see me now.

When I open the door, I find that the universe has decided to hate on me. Standing outside the men's bathroom is both Kelly and Jane. Both of them looking at me with worry. "Hey, you going to be ok?"

"I'll be fine commander." I give her a small smile. "Just my first time killing someone you know?"

"You don't look like it. You sure you're going to be ok? This was your first time after all." I can plainly see the concern on both her and Kelly's face.

Straightening up, I step out of the bathroom and head towards my viewing deck. "How do you figure that? The vomiting tell you that?"

Shepard shrugged. "The vomiting, the blood-shot eyes, a lot of things. Garrus told me also, he was surprised when you told him that this was your first time killing someone. Said you acted like you were used to something like this."

Damn it, I'm starting to struggle getting to my room. "I'm fine, I'll be fine." The words leave my mouth but even I hardly believe them. "I'm tired and really just want to get some sleep."

I stop when I feel a hand pressing down on my shoulder, its grip firm but not terribly so. Turning my head, Shepard's not the one who grabbed me but it's Kelly. "Please, are you sure you're ok?" I have to ask the universe, do all women learn or just instinctively know the infamous 'pouty puppy-dog face'?

"I said I'm fine. I'm very tired right now and would like to get some sleep." I shake off the hand and quickly open the door. "Please, just let me get some sleep." I step inside the close the door and lock it

"I'm fine, I have to be. I can't be not fine…"

**NAV2**

Outside the door the two women looked at each other. "What do you think Kelly? You think he's going to be alright?"

Biting her lip, Kelly answers. "I'm…not entirely sure Commander. He's…hard to read. Harder than most people are. He was distressed that much was obvious but as to how far it's affecting him, I can't tell."

"Why? What's the problem?"

"He, well to put it bluntly he has what I call a 'mask'."

"A mask?"

"He's able to control his emotions to a degree, hiding what he wants, showing what he needs, etc… I've read of psych files where a person essentially created a second personality if you will. The person they behaved as when interacting with other people. His, well, it's not something someone that's, relatively speaking, as young as he is, should have."

"So what you're saying is…"

"Unless something happens that breaks down his barriers, or he willing shows us, we probably won't figure out just how much is affecting him."

**NAV2**

Blinking my eyes, I find myself staring at the bleak ceiling of my room. Turning my head I can see my door is still locked. And the room doesn't look like it's been in a brawl. Why do I feel like crap?

Oh, right. Purgatory. Damn it…How did I not have nightmares about that? Looking at the clock, it reads 2:12 am, ship time. I pull myself up from the coach, seeing as I'm don't think I'll be falling asleep any time soon. Might as well head to the mess hall, maybe try to cook up something for myself with Gardener breathing down my neck.

Heading towards the mess, there's a few people walking around, probably the graveyard shift seeing as they look more lively than I am. Miranda's door is surprisingly unlocked. Probably more paperwork because of what happened on Purgatory. Ah paperwork, even almost two hundred years in the future, it's still a pain in the ass for everyone. Even without paper.

Heading into the mess proper, I find that I'm not the only one who decided to try get a late-night snack. Though, from the all the ingredients on the table…Eram still hasn't found something to eat. Right now he's digging around the fridge, probably searching for leftovers. But that's all raw stuff.

I step over to the counter and raise my voice loud enough for him to hear, "If you're looking for leftovers, they're in the fridge under the counter. Not that one." His head leaves the refrigerator.

"Thanks." He heads for aforementioned fridge.

"No problem. So what are you doing up?" I ask.

"The Purgatory didn't have a day-night cycle for us prisoners. It was just constant artificial daylight. So we sleep when we feel like it, plus less of the crew are awake at this time so I can take a look around without disturbing anyone."

"Are your people really that hated?"

I hear dishes clinking around and him mumbling, "Oh thank the gods above, finally some real food…" He finally gets up, bringing up a tray of, meat I think? "We kind of are, especially by humans. The Batarian Hegemony, that's the 'official' government of the Batarian people, is looked down cause of how our society is based around slavery." He ripped off a piece and stuffed it into his mouth. "They actively purchase from slavers and hire them. And unofficially, the government also supplies pirates and mercenaries to attack and raid human colonies. Because of that, a lot of people have adopted a 'shoot first, poke the body later' policy when it comes to batarian in the Terminus systems." Finishing the last of it, "Speaking of which, thanks for saving my life before, most people wouldn't have hesitated to just shoot me."

"Well you shot the Warden before he could shoot us so I thought you weren't a normal prisoner."

"Either way you have my thanks. You ever need a favor, just call me up and ask me. I'll see what I can do." He extends his hand out to me. I take it.

"Thanks."


End file.
